


The Honeymooners

by ToneeStark



Category: Iron Man (Comics), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Steve Rogers - Fandom, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Tony Stark - Fandom
Genre: Action, Adventure, Angst, Captain America - Freeform, Captain America loves Tony Stark, Cruise, Cruise Ship, Explicit Language, Fluff, Honeymoon, Hurt!Steve, In later chapters - Freeform, IronCap - Freeform, Island - Freeform, M/M, Romance, Some Whump, Stony - Freeform, The Honeymooners, Tony Stark loves Captain America, Torture, Whump, hurt!Tony, steve/tony - Freeform, tony stark - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-04-24 22:23:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14364939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToneeStark/pseuds/ToneeStark
Summary: Tony and Steve are volunteered for a mission aboard a cruise ship where they have to pretend to be on their honeymoon. Unfortunately their enemies prove to be smarter and stronger as the two are captured and subsequently find themselves on a ship doomed to crash.





	1. All Aboard

_The Avengers’ Bunker, Upstate New York - 2:13 AM EST_

The structure was a bright light within the dim New York forestry that surrounded it. The concrete walls were lit up from various spotlights, glowing scarlet circles of numerous landing pads, and the luminous reflections on the black glass windows lining the main dormitory bunker. The Avengers' headquarters was quiet but not fully silent as the faint sound of laughter and mild bickering could be heard through the dim lit hallways leading to Steve Rogers' room. The walls were made to be soundproof so as not to disturb one another, but when certain members of the Avengers were together, the noise level would always rise above what Stark’s engineers had planned for.

“I vote Wing-face and Shell-brain.” Natasha sat casually on Steve’s desk, thumbing through some of his most recent artwork and turning her head slightly at the more abstract images. Her black, silk robe was tied tightly around her waist but didn’t fail showing off the unnatural curves from the knives hidden beneath it.

The room was large enough to hold each of the founding Avengers, plus Sam Wilson, Vision, and Wanda, for an impromptu meeting that Steve had summoned everyone to.

“Shell-brain?” Sam glanced over at Natasha who raised her eyebrows and pressed her lips into a lopsided smile. “You know if Tony was here, he would correct you. I am just trying to make it seem like a normal-ass meeting and not one called at  _two o’clock in the morning._ ” The sass came through effectively as Steve rolled his eyes.

“No, Tony and I are not going on this mission together, no matter how entertaining the idea is. One of us needs to be here to monitor. Sam, I apologize for interrupting your beauty sleep but you know that a plan needs to be in place by tomorrow morning.”

“You mean  _this_  morning since it’s after midnight?” Sam pursed his lips. The Captain sighed, brushed a hand along the back of his own neck, and exasperatedly smiled at him.

“Look, we come up with a plan and then we go back to bed. Easy as that. It’s a simple reconnaissance mission and we need a team of two, for a couple of days, to take in as much intel as possible from the small Kang gang that we are targeting.” Cap smiled at himself, proud of his terminology for The Conqueror’s minions. “This is the only lead we have, so it is important that this be taken seriously, even if it is on a cruise ship…”

Clint, silent and bleary eyed during this whole conversation, perked up at Steve’s latest comment. “I volunteer as tribute.” He offered, raising his steaming coffee mug to further cement his eagerness.

Steve’s eyes narrowed dully, “You are in a cast and a wheelchair. As much as Stark and Banner tried, there was no quick healing options for a shattered femur. So, you are out of the question. Sorry Barton. Bruce, you are also out of the question since- well- the Hulk on a ship sounds like a tragedy waiting to happen.”

Clint slumped back into his wheelchair and contemplated rolling out of the room, instead settling for another sip of coffee to avoid any unnecessary, middle-of-the-night drama. Bruce nodded in understanding, seemingly relieved.

“I was able to allocate two tickets to the digital shopping cart-“ Natasha smiled at Steve’s weird phrasing, “- I was thinking a honeymoon cover-up, so maybe Natasha and Sam? Natasha and myself? The cruise leaves at 5 PM which gives time for fake identity generation, passports, some packing, and mission prep.”

Natasha shook her head indignantly “Nope. I told you-you and Stark should go. It’ll be good for you both to get a break and we don’t need any babysitting here. Maybe it will smooth things over considering yours and Tony’s last fifty arguments?” She hopped off of her perch on the desk as Steve tried to come up with a decent response.

“It’s decided then!” Sam clapped his hands and started for the door at a near jog. He decided it was in his best interests not to argue for the cruise ship because a) he was exhausted from a three-week tirade in Monaco and b) no one argued with Natasha except for Tony and Steve. The other Avengers shrugged and sluggishly moved towards the metal door.

“I- _what_ -well-“ Steve stammered, “-then the honeymoon plan is scrap. We aren’t done planning yet-  _stop leaving_!” Steve, normally calm and in control of the situation, was clearly flustered. His teammates disregarded the super soldier and continued about their ways, stopped short by the exit door sliding open. Groomed goatee, coiffed hair, and the pressed suit of Tony Stark came into view. Despite the time, his sunglasses covered the bottom half of his eyes, sapphire irises peeking out and staring at each of the people before him before settling on Steve.

“That’s a little homophobic, don’t you think, Cap? Canceling the whole honeymoon idea just because it’s two guys? That may actually conceal our identities better… no one would suspect my playboyish self to be into someone so… Buff? Manly?  Prude?” He flipped his sunglasses back up on the bridge of his nose with a casual flick of his head. “I came from Pep’s birthday party on this emergency call, only to find Captain America getting overruled by the queen of spies? Looks like we won the vote, Rogers. I’ve never been on a cruise ship other than one I personally owned, so this should be a new experience at least…” Tony stepped into the room during his rambling and put a hand on Steve’s shoulder, slowly sliding his arm around to the other side to pull the super soldier into a one-armed, side hug. “Let’s go dearest lover. We depart port at 5:00 PM… Pack up Capsicle. SHIPS AHOY! SAIL AHEAD! INSERT OTHER BOAT LINGO HERE!” Tony pecked a struggled kiss on Steve’s cheek, which subsequently flushed a deep pink. Everyone stifled tired chuckles and grins as they sauntered out of the room, leaving Tony, Natasha, and Steve as the remaining occupants.

“I know it only happens once in a blue moon, but when you undermine my plans in front of the rest of the crew, I look like a fat-head.” Steve said flatly, glaring at his two friends. He noticed some hidden emotion in Nat’s face and lingered on her eyes for a second longer than normal, trying to analyze her inner thoughts and failing.

Tony grinned, “C’mon Cap. It’ll be fine. _Fun_ even.” 

 

_Being trapped with Tony Stark on a cruise ship… life could be worse._

 

* * *

 

“I’ll have you know I had many friends that were not heterosexual before I went into the ice.”

“Cap, chill buddy- ice pun intended- I was just messing with you.” Tony waved a hand dismissively before graciously tipping the luggage handler to ensure that the staff hand delivered their bags to their suite room. “Plus, you know the more that you deny it, the more you sound homophobic."

Steve whispered, “Don’t call me Cap… I’m Seth Richards, remember? We are close to the ship now. Disguises?  _Antione_ …” Steve jabbed at Tony’s chosen “alter ego” for the trip.

 

Steve had bitterly shaved his head this morning after their team gathering. With his golden blonde locks shaved down to his scalp, he felt very unlike himself and kept rubbing his hand along the smoothness that was the crown of his head. 

 

 _On the bright side… no hair gel prep needed?_  

 

The mental image that he conjured up of himself involved him looking like a bulky, steroid-induced child. His cheeks were still round with what some would call “baby fat”, even after his 70 years sealed in the Arctic ocean. With the lack of hair framing his face, it just made him appear rounder and fuller.

They had rushed to the dock after running Steve through a shop for some “cruise clothes”- as Tony had put it- complete with a straw fedora and matching sunglasses. Steve felt like what kids nowadays would call a “tool”, but the shop attendant had swooned. Even Tony’s eyes had glazed over slightly when Steve had come out of the dressing room in his selected outfit for the day: white linen pants, leather flip-flops, a gray, form fitting shirt, and a light-weight white sports coat to complete the look.

Swinging his garment bags around on his broad left shoulder, Steve had paid the attendant with cash and a bashful smile. Tony had been uncharacteristically quiet behind him, mouth set in a thin line and eyes treading over the expanse of Steve’s new wardrobe.

Steve had never been on a cruise ship before. This one was extremely exclusive compared to the other cruise ships that Steve had researched. It held approximately 10,000 people and had a little over 5,000 rooms on it. Children were not allowed on board, which was probably good since children seemed to recognize Captain America more often than any adults did. There were multiple pools and bars on board, a casino, an art gallery, stage shows, gyms, and even a mini-golf court. Steve didn’t understand how they fit all of these amenities on a boat until he saw the massive size of the ship. He thought he had seen big ships when he was fighting in the war and when Sheild’s Helicarriers temporarily stanchioned down into the water, but neither battleship compared to the size of the cruise boat.

The ship was pure white, multiple long anchors running from all sides, and had red and blue stripes (Steve appreciated their color choices) running parallel around the hull. Above the hull, ten levels of balconies wrapped around the surface of the ship, comprising most of its mid-section. The bow had tall glass panels surrounding it, so Steve couldn’t quite determine what was bow-side yet. The stern had shorter, angled glass panels around it and it appeared to be some sort of viewing deck. The back of the ship read _The Liberty_ in bright blue letters.

It wasn’t often that Captain America found himself overwhelmed… but he was now. He was overwhelmed by the complexity of the cruise ship and felt himself getting excited as if this was an actual vacation.

He let out a happy sigh and couldn’t help but smile as he strolled up to a winding ramp that went to the main deck of the boat. Tony was following his footsteps, a soft expression on his face, as he watched Steve stop and admire the ship. He smiled right along with the larger man.

“Come on Seth… let’s get on board before they leave us behind and you only get to admire the ship’s ass as it sails away from you.” Tony slid his arm into the crook of Steve’s and started pulling him up the ramp.

 

* * *

 

The passports that Natasha had hacked up for them passed for genuine with flying colors and they quickly obtained their cruise key-cards without disturbance.

 

The disguise for Antoine was simple. Tony had asked his biochemist friend to loan him some of his hair growth serum and then applied it onto the jawline of his face. Initially his whole beard, goatee and all, had grown at the same rate and he had looked ridiculous: black, grey and brown hairs all different lengths along his chin. Once it was trimmed up to the same length all over, Tony thought he looked good.

 

He might give this beard thing another go after this mission was completed. His normally scruffy hair was gelled back, and he had his stylist trim the sides of his hair. 

 

“Old man hipster,” was his initial thought after he saw himself in the mirror. “Eh… I can pull it off better than any hipster I know.” Fair, since Tony didn’t really associate with many hipsters.

Whereas Steve was dressed in mostly light colors, Tony decided to wear darker colors made of his newest sweat-slick technology; light-weight fabrics that caused the person wearing the articles to not sweat, even while wearing radiation-absorbent black.

He had thought about sharing the fabric and clothing with Steve, but couldn’t make Steve’s size for multiple articles of clothing in a matter of hours.

Tony had been on plenty of cruises before, mostly on personal ships that he or his parents owned, so he wasn’t really surprised by the vastness that was _The Liberty_. Nor was he overwhelmed. He didn’t really feel many emotions in response to the cruise, but felt a whole array of emotions due to his cruise partner. Steve was looking around like a child at DisneyWorld and Tony couldn’t help but smile at Steve. He would get excited about minuscule things: The way the boat rocked once they got on board. The stylistic designs. The water between the ship and the dock. However, when Cap noticed Tony looking at him, he would become bashful and dampen his enthusiasm until Tony looked away.

Eventually, despite Steve’s stops, the two men made their way through the grand corridors. The entrance was decorated with chandeliers, ornate carpeting, and twisted craftsman wood. It was nice. It wasn’t really Tony’s style, but he didn’t mind it. He preferred modern and high-tech versus the traditional Jack and Rose,  _Titanic_  atmosphere.

 

After maneuvering around the crowd of people that moved nonchalantly through the lower decks of shopping plazas and 24-hour eateries, they made it to the elevator and hopped in to slowly rise to their room on the 10th floor.

 

Tony leaned on the wooden railing across from Steve and crossed his arms uncomfortably. It was awkward, as they both stared at the floor, occasionally glancing at each other only to cast their eyes a different direction; they were the only two people in this elevator and both men were having trouble keeping their eyes from connecting with the other’s.

 

Clearing his throat, Tony spoke up to end the miserable silence. “We have the same room, to make it less noticeable that we are not actually honeymooners. It was the most expensive room on the whole ship, which is great! We had to pay extra to encourage a senator and his  _very beautiful_  mistress to buy a smaller, but equally as nice, room.” Tony rambled on and subsequently came to a realization that he had not considered before. “And uh… I just realized that there is only one bed because it is literally called the “Honeymooners” room. One bed, one bath, I assume a closet and maybe a dining room- “

“What?” Tony looked up at Steve with mild worry, “Oh, yeah that’s no problem. We can rotate on who has the bed versus floor, or maybe the couch if there is one?” Steve felt a slight twinge in his solar plexus but he smirked and nodded his head downward as he saw Tony’s face contort to the idea of sleeping on a couch.

“I am glad- for your sake- that the ship is loaded with alcohol.” Tony smiled briefly before the elevator dinged, doors opened, and, as if on cue, a cocktail waitress greeted them with a tray of martinis in a variety of flavors. Tony grabbed the one that looked most olivey and gave the woman a flirtatious smile before handing her a fifty. She smiled at both of them and sauntered off, Tony cranking his head a full 360 degrees to see the luscious rump that has just passed him by.

Steve, noticing the distraction, grabbed Tony’s arm and jerked him back to attention. “Hey  _honey pie goo goo bear_ , let’s get to our room.” Tony frowned and let out a very low-pitch, pining whine as Steve drug him to the Honeymooners suite in room #1013.

“You really need to work on your pet names Rog-I mean Richards.” Tony thought he noticed a bit of genuine jealousy in Steve's eyes but his genius brain decided that this observation was implausible; he bit back any comments that he wanted to blurt out in typical Tony Stark fashion. 

“I’ll take your feedback into consideration, Schnookums…”

 

They had reached the outside of their room. Steve slid his key-card into the door, propping the solid wood open with his hand as he motioned for Tony to go in first. “ _Mr. Richards._ ”


	2. The Sword

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little later on posting this than I expected, but ah well! Thank you so much for all of your kind reviews and kudos. If you are lurking in the shadows, please feel free to write an anonymous review or leave a kudo whether you like or not; constructive criticism or expression of enjoyment keep me writing! 
> 
> I hope you all get a chance to see IW tonight or tomorrow; hopefully we all come out of it without too much emotional trauma. 
> 
> Much Love,  
> Tonee

“Holy cow.” A shrill whistle came from between Steve’s lips as he took in his surroundings. It wasn’t the nicest room he had ever seen, but it was definitely on up there.

The Honeymooners suite was larger than he expected, with a lower and upper level. The whole room looked Victorian era, but still had an air of modernity about it with flat screen TVs, digital temperature controls, and in-lay speakers dotting the ceiling. The lower level housed a fully stocked, crystal mini-bar, with countless bottles of liquors and liqueurs lining a glass-faced cabinet overhead.

There was a main living area with a marble-top coffee table, surrounded by two antique style love seats and a full-sized chaise sofa. The walls were laden with taupe colored paint and covered with elaborate artworks framed in white-washed wood and intricate gold. Two sliding glass doors were on the far wall, light streaming through them despite being covered by cream-colored sheer curtains. Beside the doors were floor to ceiling windows, also covered by sheers that prevented Steve from seeing the oceanic view from their suite room.

Tony, having downed his first olive martini, moved brusquely over to the mini-bar and inspected his options, finger pointing at each label as he moved across the row of alcohol bottles. Finally, he settled on some  _Glenfiddich_ and poured himself a quarter tumbler before sipping it gingerly. He puckered his mouth and shook his head at the strength of the first swallow. He then brought out his phone and walked over to the digital panel for music control.

“I thought you were watching your alcohol consumption…” Steve stated, not really a question, more of a reminder.

Tony didn’t reply at first as he held his phone up to the wall panel he was scrutinizing. “It’s a cruise. You are supposed to drink copious amounts of booze on a cruise. Check that out, I rhymed  _and_  integrated JARVIS with the ship’s controls.” He sounded more proud of the first accomplishment rather than the latter.

 

“ _Hello, Sir. Hello, Captain Rogers.”_ JARVIS rang loud and clear over the speakers to their room, ensuring that his volume was reverberating at the appropriate level for Steve’s serum-intensified eardrums. Steve gave a slight nod in hello.

 

“’Sup buddy. Hey, I know you are just now entering the system, but can you hack into any of the other onboard suites’ speaker systems? This mission is easy peasy, Cap. Seriously, with JARVIS we can figure out where Kang’s guys are in a matter of minutes.” Tony looked over the rim of his sunglasses and smirked. “Then, we get to call S.H.E.I.L.D., have them come get these bastards, and  _then,_ if you’d like, we can actually enjoy our vacation.”

 

“ _Actually sir, it appears that this ship has stronger security than one would initially speculate. The main circuit for the ship is closed off to me and will take some time for me to override.”_

 

Tony looked a little flabbergasted as the AI alerted him to this hiccup. “You can’t be serious. A system so advanced that it will take you  _some time_ to crack into? What the hell is this cruise ship-“ he looked back at Steve momentarily, “- Is this a cruise ship for the fucking CIA… no, not even the CIA. You could break into their system within minutes buddy.” Tony scratched his head, seemingly concerned by the amount of effort that went into protecting the residents aboard the ship.

 

_“It will only take me a few hours at most sir. Perhaps you and Mr. Rogers could explore the ship and search for any peculiarities as I push my way into the system.”_

 

“Yeah, Tony…  _Easy peasy._ ” Steve smirked. While Tony tried to educate JARVIS about how the A.I. could bypass the security system (with JARVIS already knowing what he needed to do and already having tried all of Tony’s suggestions before Tony even thought of them), Steve made his way to the sliding doors.

 

He pulled back a sheer to expose a little shred of the scenery outside. Initially, the sunlight blinded him, but after his eyes adjusted, Steve saw they were still at port and that their suite was facing towards the vast expanse of the ocean. Sunlight glittered on the water’s surface and Steve smiled slightly, appreciating the beauty that this world was blessed with.

 

He let the sheer fall from his hand and then made his way to the mini-bar, pulling a water bottle from the fridge and flipping it in his hand before snapping the cap off and guzzling. To the left of the minibar was a set of iron-banister stairs and Steve assumed that they led up to the master bedroom. He made his way up the stairs quietly and was immediately impressed with the master bedroom.

 

There was the typical king-sized bed covered in soft cotton layers, a crystal chandelier overhead, and a bookshelf with various works ranging from  _Oliver Twist_ to Oprah’s newest best-seller. Steve touched the sheets and let himself happily fall back onto the plush mattress, hands folding behind his head. The bed didn’t even creak at the sudden drop of his weight.

Their luggage was already propped up in the two closets directly opposing the bed.

Sighing, he sat up and examined the bedside table. Oddly there were four buttons lining the area underneath the lamp. He pressed the first and the lights turned on, he pressed the second and could suddenly hear JARVIS replying exasperatedly to Tony over the bedroom speakers, and the third button opened a wooden cabinet in front of him, revealing another flat screen TV. Steve’s finger hovered over the fourth button before he finally pressed it.

The bookshelf began to slide to the side, apparently on some sort of mechanical track. What Steve saw made his jaw drop open. He began yelling for Tony.

 

* * *

 

“-yea but did you try-“ Tony got cut off.

“TONY!” Steve’s cry repeated itself multiple times before Tony’s muscles got the message to move and move fast. Tony bounded from his current spot by the door and quickly did a mental calculation to determine where the stairs were since they were slightly hidden beside the mini-bar. Tony took the steps two at a time. He slid to a stop at the top of the stairs, glanced at Steve sitting on the bed, and then shifted his eyes towards where Steve was looking.

Tony blinked. His mouth moved open and then closed. Then he began chuckling. Soon his initial laughter turned thunderous and he bent over clutching his stomach as his crow’s feet crinkled. “You screamed bloody murder for me- to come up here- to see – that you found-“ he breathed “-a hidden  _sex closet!?”_

At his counterpart’s laughter, Steve felt heat rise in his cheeks. “That’s what this is? I don’t- what am I even looking at? This is a sex closet??”

Tony raised up, eyes watering from the lack of oxygen. He strolled over to the shelving and picked up a floppy purple piece of plastic.

 

“This here, this here is a  _DIL_ do, Steve. D-I-L-D-O.” Steve rolled his eyes and shook his head as Tony continued.

 

“This is lubricant,  _ooo_ some handcuffs, uh- a cock cage, some lovely anal beads, a vibrator-“ Tony picked the items up as he moved through his terminology.

 

“Tony, I know  _what_  all this stuff is -well, most of it anyway. Why the hell is it in here?”

 

“Uhm.  _Hello_? Honeymoon suite??” the response was incredulous of Steve’s apparent naivety.

Steve thought for a second and it made sense. He flattened his mouth, obviously embarrassed, and pressed the fourth button again, the bookshelf sliding back into place over the sex toy shelving units.

“You know what I’ll be doing on the nights I get dibs on the bed!” Tony winked and realized that his statement was more flirtatious than he meant it to be. He cast his eyes up to the ceiling and walked back to the top of the stairs as the Captain grinned and shook his head in good-humored denial.

 

* * *

 

JARVIS eventually got Tony to understand that there was no way that the AI could expedite the process of hacking into the ship’s main computer. By the time Tony let it go, it was already well into the evening, the ship had departed port, and Steve was starving. Room service times had come and gone and now the only thing open was the main dining room, the perfect place for a little reconnaissance.

“Tony,  _please,_ we need to go eat.”

“Not hungry. I’ll stay here until JARVIS is done.” Tony was now sitting on the couch, flicking his finger on his phone screen as he tried to determine what to do next. He felt awkward with just him and Steve. They were friends. Co-workers. But it was rare that they spent time alone together and the time alone that they did spend normally resulted in one of them opening up to the other, feeling vulnerable, and then putting on a macho front and ruining any chance of further kindling of their relationship.

They had both just sat on their respective couches, barely speaking, until Steve’s stomach began complaining.

“ _Sir,_ please  _take Captain Rogers to go get food. This process is not quick.”_

“I-“ Tony was cut off by a beep over the speaker.

“I woul-“  _beep_.

 

“If-“ _beep._

 

“What-“  _beep._

Tony furrowed his brow at the interruptions and then frowned as it dawned on him what was occurring.

 

“JARVIS are you conditioning me??”

A few seconds passed and there was another beep.

“What. The. Fuck.  _FINE_.” The genius stood up haughtily, chucked his phone on the couch, and then walked over to Steve, extending his hand.

 

Steve, by this point in time, was stifling laughter at JARVIS’s attempt at classical conditioning. He looked at Tony’s weathered, tinkerer’s hand before sinking his larger warm one into it, fingers clasping as he pulled himself up from his couch. He felt tingles along his fingertips as their palms connected.

“JARVIS can handle it, Tony. We will go get some food and run some surveillance while he figures this all out.” At his counterpart’s sour expression, Steve placed a hand on the shorter man’s shoulder and patted it. “It will be alright.”

Making sure they had their keycards for access and phones in their pockets, both men left the room with JARVIS bidding them adieu. Tony flipped off the ceiling in response.

Tony was normally feisty, but with the addition of the few drinks he had in the stateroom, he was a paragon of difficulty. Still, he wasn’t rude to Steve, just fussy about JARVIS’s attitude.

“You designed him…” Steve muttered under his breath.

“Should we lock arms or hold hands?” He questioned, and Tony silently slid his hand into Steve’s as they walked side by side. Steve, quickly feeling a blush spread across his cheeks, whispered softly, “Alrighty then…”

As they walked, the two passed by waitresses offering more martinis and cocktails, Tony often reaching for one and Steve shifting so as to pull Tony back from the beverage tray.

 

“Antione, we need to make it to dinner before you fulfill your alcoholic desires, please.” Steve squeezed his hand and pursed his lips, looking sideways into Tony’s eyes. Tony rocked his head side to side in a  _yeah-yeah_  fashion.

* * *

 

The dining room was on the sixth floor, four floors down from their room, and it was very large. More chandeliers and a huge staircase that separated two floors of chairs, tables, and waiters. Steve could smell the delicacies cooking and his tummy grumbled in want. They were seated quickly and given a few minutes to look over the menu before their waited visited their table.

“Hello sirs, I am William and I will be your server for the remainder of the trip. With it being the first night, please allow me to thank you both for traveling with us. Is there a special occasion that you are celebrating with us?” The waiter was of middle eastern descent and was dressed the same as the other wait staff: black pants, white shirt, black tie, and a black napkin folded delicately over his right arm. He poured them ice waters from a crystal pitcher as he spoke.

“Our honeymoon-“ Steve and Tony responded at the same time, glancing at each other before breaking out into forced grins.

“It’s our honeymoon. Married last week!” Tony took the lead and reached across the table to touch Steve’s left hand softly. As he brushed his thumb over Steve’s knuckles Tony noticed two things: Steve’s arm got chill bumps from the touch and, more importantly, neither of them were wearing a wedding ring _._

 

_Shit!_

Tony recovered quickly and saw the waiter glance at their touching hands before looking at Steve.

 

“If this big guy wasn’t such a stickler for big diamonds and a snug fit, I would show you the ring I bought him! It’s a beaut. Sparkles like a thousand suns…and cost about as much as a thousand suns too.” Steve picked up on Tony’s concern and rapidly delivered a coy smile.

 

The waiter smiled awkwardly, congratulated them, and then proceeded to take their orders. Steve ordered enough food for six grown men while Tony ordered a glass of red wine (“ _Anti-oxidants! They are good for you!_ ”), escargot, and a steak salad. While Cap could certainly eat whatever he wanted, Tony had to work to maintain his slim figure. Honoring Steve’s wishes, Tony was trying to maintain some level of sobriety, so he slowly sipped the glass of pinot noir he ordered.

“Fun game… we are on our honeymoon right? So we might as well talk about our past together.” Tony whispered and then winked multiple times. When the larger man smiled and nodded in understanding, Tony spoke up, “Remember that time you got drunk and peed on the couch because you thought it was the toilet?”

Steve’s smile vanished as he knit his brows and flattened his lips “ _Inappropriate Antione.”_

He glared at the story Tony chose to formulate for this conversation, “But at least that was better than the time you threw up a whole burrito on the couch.”

Tony cocked his head to the side, smiling a little because that story, about the burrito, was true. “Touché.”

During the wait for the arrival of their food, they made up various stories about Seth and Antione’s past, including many skiing trips in Aspen, a beautiful evening in Paris, the time that five of Antione’s ex-lovers had shown up at a charity gala, and the drama that had ensued.

Before dinner even arrived, Tony and Steve were snickering to one another, almost mad-libbing the stories as they went along. For a moment as they stared at one another, crow’s feet wrinkled in happiness, it felt to Steve like they were actually more than friends. Like the stories were real and they were reminiscing about their crazy lives together.

The chemistry between the two men was just odd. Steve could feel an attraction, this desire to be more to Tony than just a super soldier that helped him fight battles against the world’s baddies. At the same time, Steve often found himself irritated and loathing the man; his attitude, his outer show of arrogance- all drove Steve nuts. His thoughts dimmed the laughter from Steve’s face and he coughed before drinking some ice water from the etched, crystal glass beside him. 

Tony looked a little concerned, but in true Captain America and Iron Man manner, he didn’t question Steve about his sudden change in demeanor. There was now an awkward silence, but thankfully William showed up with a tray of their food soon after the change.

“Here we are, gentleman.” He read off their orders and preferences as he set the platters in front of them. William asked if they needed anything more as he pulled his hands back from the table.

As he moved, Tony noticed a tattoo on William’s wrist. He was unable to determine what exactly it was, but it looked similar to a sword. He wanted to ask the waiter what it was, as he normally found tattoos pretty interesting, wanting to know the stories behind them and what they signified. Tony didn’t want to offend or embarrass William though, so he just smiled and denied anything additional that the waiter could offer.

The attendant seemed to notice Tony’s gaze and tugged his white dress sleeve down over his wrist, fiddling with his cufflinks as he walked off.  

 

* * *

 

A warm hand slid into Steve’s as he walked through the casino. Subconsciously, Steve gently squeezed the hand and put his other in his pants pocket.

The casino was smaller because it was on a ship, but still had the flash and pizzazz that one would in Vegas. Multicolored lights dashed and temporarily imprinted themselves on the Captain’s retinas. This room and the cigar lounge were the only two places that smoking was allowed, so there was a slight haze in the air along with people hacking, shouting, and laughing.

Steve glanced at Tony beside him, the other man smiling as people jumped up to announce their winnings. There was an air of wonder and childlike happiness in him that was endearing. Pulling Tony along, they made it to the bar at the end of the casino. Steve decided that this was the best place to investigate their fellow cruise members and maybe get information from them if they were inebriated.

Kang had a diverse set of people working for him. Some were aliens. Some humanoid. Some aliens but appearing humanoid. They were masters of disguises and with Kang himself as an intellectual mastermind, his minions often had genius level intellect as well, an attribute that most of the earth’s villains did not possess. It may be a challenge to find the group of Kang’s cohorts, but if there were any good place to start, it would be the place with a conglomeration of alcohol, smoking, and gambling.

“I tend to function better socially after drinking a little, you know.” Tony tipped his head and looked up at the super soldier with a small smile.

“Yes. I know. Go wild-but not too wild.” Steve waived Tony to go to the bar for drink orders while he inspected the casino. There were probably 150 people crammed into the small space playing slots and blackjack among other games. In the middle of the casino was a winding glass staircase, leading up to other venues and a 20’s themed speakeasy. Steve made a mental note to visit the speakeasy if he got a chance.

A few minutes passed until Tony came up behind Steve, eyes a little glazed over as the two shots he just downed took effect on his brain. He stood and stared at the super soldier’s silhouette for a brief moment. Steve had shed his white linen jacket but still donned the tight gray shirt underneath and the pants that fit his  _assets_ very well. Tony blinked, shook his head, and settled beside Steve, handing him an old-fashioned. 

“Let’s split up to cover more space.”

“I doubt a couple would split up on their honeymoon,” Tony replied.

Steve sighed in agreement and locked his arm in the crook of the mechanic’s elbow as they strolled along. The walk was uneventful until a lady ran backward, knocking into Tony and thus Steve, and spilt drinks all over the two men. A moment passed until Tony hissed and bit his upper lip, bitter but not angry about the incident.

The lady looked frantically at them. She had deep golden hair that was pinned up to the cowlick on the front left of her head and she possessed very pointed features set within tanned skin. “Oh my goodness, I am so, so sorry. Please let me grab a napkin-“ The woman was cut off by a greased-up man approaching her and grabbing her wrist, too tightly for Steve’s liking.

“Patricia, when I am speaking to you, do  _not_ leave my side…” The man seethed at her, oblivious to Tony and Steve standing there, fists clenching.

Steve opened his mouth but was cut off by Tony, who had stepped forward towards the woman.

“Hey buddy, not that I want to butt into your life or anything, but can you release her wrist? Making me a bit uncomfortable. And I don’t think either of us wants me uncomfortable.” Tony was significantly shorter than this man, at least by a foot, but stood his ground, moving closer to the man until he was a breath away. The man reminded Tony of a more attractive Lurch: tall and pale with sharp features, but at least features that were symmetrical, unlike his Addam’s Family alias.

The man glared at Tony, then Steve, and then at the people who had stopped playing their games and were staring at the drama. The man dropped Patricia’s wrist forcefully. Patricia gingerly rubbed at it and looked down, seeming defeated and embarrassed by the ruckus. The man was still staring down at Tony, awkwardly close, and Tony thought for a moment that the guy was going to punch him in the face.

“Michael.” Instead, the guy took a step back and outstretched his hand. Tony looked at the opened palm that was extended in a peace offering but chose not to take it. Michael shrugged and pocketed both of his hands. “I apologize. Patricia can be difficult when I am explaining certain things to her. She has attention deficit dis-“

“I don’t really give a shit what she has. You treat women- and humankind in general- with respect, dignity, and tenderness, buddy.” The shorter man’s blue eyes flashed as he spoke, obviously triggered by the situation.

Steve was slightly impressed with Tony. Sure, Tony came off misogynistic and like a playboy, but obviously, there was more than meets the eye. However, this drama was not helping this case at all. He muttered Tony’s name under his breath, hoping the other man would hear him and calm down.

“You’re right. I really am sorry.” Although his face conveyed no remorse, Michael turned to Patricia and grabbed both of her hands gently. “Patti…dear… I’m sorry.”

Patricia nodded and smiled softly at her husband.

“Please gentleman, let me buy you both a drink. We can talk and hopefully, I can start to correct the impression you have made of me.”

A hand laid gently on Tony’s shoulder, calming him from its warm energy. Steve pulled Tony back a little and grabbed his arm, squeezing it. “Please, dear. Let’s have a drink and let bygones be bygones.”

Tony nodded and figured out Steve’s game: violent guy on the ship. Maybe violent guy had strings to the other head honcho violent guy. “ _Sure_ …”

Michael smiled and clapped a hand on Tony’s back, much to Tony’s disgust. As the abusive grease-monkey guided them back to the bar, the sleeve of his short sleeve shirt pulled up and revealed a similar, sword-shaped tattoo imprinted on his bicep.

 

* * *

 

This Michael fella was smart. Was bigger than Steve in height and bulk muscle and although the man had tried to smooth things over with the two honeymooners, his words oozed contempt. Michael had continually looked at Tony, up and down, and often settled on the dark blue irises as Tony refused to back down his anger. Tony didn’t intimidate easily. Especially when he was drunk off his ass.

They talked about everything, ranging from the drink specials to politics (bad idea), and on every point, Tony and Michael disagreed. It became heated several times, Patricia and Steve exchanging apologetic, albeit worried, glances.

Eventually they bid each other adieu and went their separate ways, the husband and wife going one way and the fraudulent husbands going the other.

After the assorted martinis, shots, and cocktails that Michael had supplied, Tony was now stumbling in front of Steve through the halls and singing a song that Steve had never heard before. They had learned nothing of importance from Michael or Patricia, nor the various others that had surrounded them at the bar.

So, basically it was now 4 in the morning, they had learned nothing, and Tony was singing and overcorrecting his balance as he attempted to dance. Fortunately, the rooms lining the hallway seemed to be semi-soundproof, as no one had come out to yell or complain at them.

Frustrated, Steve walked to Tony, slipped an arm around his waist and began guiding him to the elevator so they could retire to their suite.

“NOOOOOOOO… Shteven… Shesh? Song ‘minds me of yew…”

“I didn’t get that buddy.” Steve was practically lifting Tony up and gliding him to the elevator. He flicked the button and the lift soon lowered, doors dinging as they opened.

“I  _said_  Steven but then I corrected and said  _SETH_. The song I was singing, it reminds me of you.” It took Tony a good minute to enunciate his words correctly. An eye roll was the only response he got.

They slid into the elevator, Tony sliding back against the wall into a sitting position on the ground. Eventually, he splayed his legs outwards before smirking up at the super soldier.

“ Y’look good.”

“Uh. Thanks.” Arms crossed, Steve pinched his brow with his thumb and pointer finger.

“Like… if I wasn’t me… and you weren’t you….I would hit on yewwww…” Tony pointed a finger at Steve and winked from over the pair of sunglasses that he had popped on after exceeding tipsy status.

Steve didn’t even know how to respond so he kept silent. Granted, he appreciated the compliment, but he didn’t want to encourage any feelings of attraction that he had already been having. These feelings had been popping up sporadically since he first met the billionaire. Specifically, when they were alone. Or when they got into an argument and they moved bitterly close to one another.

When they argued, Tony would clench his jaw and smile slightly as he tried to impress his opinions on Steve. The tension was always extreme when they would argue- but Steve always felt some sort of stirring going on in his lower gut.

When they were alone, it would be talking and then silence and then for some reason Steve could feel himself opening up the Tony. Tony rarely opened up in return, but sometimes he would. Only to realize what he was doing, clam up, and then give Steve a slight punch on the deltoid and state that they both needed to ‘buck up buttercup’.

Tony’s next words woke him up from his reverie.

“It made me mad.”

Steve stared at the man sitting on the floor in front of him. Tony looked small. He had pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them.

“What did?”

“When asswipe grabbed Patricia like that. Reminded me of Dad. I hate that shit. I don’t get it. If you love someone- or _claim_ to- why would you ever want to hurt them?” He was quiet, but Tony spoke clearly as if he was debating whether or not to bring it up and how exactly to broach the subject with Steve.

He continued, “Know you two were friends. He always talked about you. I admired Dad, wanted to be like him and so when he talked about how much he liked you, I liked you too. It wasn’t until high school that I grew jealous of his love for you- I started resented you.” Steve let his head fall down, not knowing how to respond.

Tony still stumbled over some of his words, but the message was clear enough. “Yeah… you two were friends. But he used to beat the shit out of Mom. He was a piece of shit- at least he was after you went bye-bye into the world’s biggest slushie.”

The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open. Steve reached out a hand, Tony taking it and helping to pull himself up. A cold look had settled onto Tony’s face as he sauntered out of the elevator, still stumbling. In a minute, Steve was there by his side, arm sliding around the man's waist again. This time, Tony’s shirt had slid up a bit and Steve was touching the bare, warm flesh of Tony’s hip.

They got to the suite door, and Tony pulled his keycard out, deactivating the metal bolt in the door. He hit it open with a kick and attempted to walk through, but Steve still had a hold on his waist. They both tried to go through the door at the same time and subsequently got stuck. They faced one another, chests touching and faces close.

Steve could smell the liquor on Tony’s sweet, warm breath. He could feel Tony’s chest heave as he breathed.

The mechanic licked his lips and swallowed as he dared look up into Cap’s soft eyes. Tony could have sworn that he could feel Steve’s heart rate speed up. Unblinking, they looked at one another for what felt like minutes. Turns out it was only a few seconds.

Steve was the first to break eye contact, apologizing as he slid by Tony and pushed himself into the entryway. “Alright… let’s get you up to bed. Can you make it upstairs and wash yourself up?”

Tony stumbled and stared defiantly before responding “Uhm. Duh. I’m pretty fucking fantastic.” He marched over to the mini-bar, grabbing a shot-sized bottle of whiskey before Steve rushed over and yanked it from his hand.

“ _No._ ”

The smaller man rolled his eyes, turned on his heel, and began to walk up the stairs. The walk eventually turned into crawling, slipping, and then cussing out the stairs. Tony laid face down on the stairs “Mmmfh shlep hur.”

Steve checked on the mechanic to ensure he was still cognizant and then left Tony in his current position for a few minutes. He was exasperated and wanted to see if the man could get himself up the stairs without Steve’s intervention.

A few blankets were shaken out and laid delicately on the chaise couch, pillows fluffed up, and pajamas laid out on the couch arm. His PJs were very Captain America: dark blue flannel pants and a red undershirt from the recent Olympics, emblazoned with USA and 5 intertwined rings in white lettering. Steve slipped carefully out of his cruise clothes and put them on. He was way too tired to wash up.

Apparently, Tony could not get himself up the stairs, since he had remained face down on them, drool pooling at the side of his mouth; he snored slightly. Steve slid an arm below him and hoisted Tony up, dragging him not so gently up the stairs, the drunkard groaning and mumbling grumpily along the way. Steve positioned him in his arms carefully and then let Tony drop onto the bed where he bounced up and giggled. Sliding his feet over the foot of the bed, Steve removed Tony’s shoes and yanked the blanket out from under him to cover him up.

While he pulled up the soft linen to cover the still clothed form, Steve removed Tony’s sunglasses delicately, only to find open blue eyes staring at him, crow’s feet crinkling in a slight smile.

“Thank you, hubby…” Steve smiled at Tony’s appreciation and hidden apology, patting the other man’s brown hair before turning to leave.

“You can stay, y’know… it’s a king bed. There is room enough for both of us… no need for the couch. It can be our little secret.” Tony put a finger up to his lips and winked.

Blinking, Steve looked the bed up and down, settling back into Tony’s ocean blue eyes and the soft lines on his face. He thought about their recent moment in the doorway and all of those times that they had argued, closing in on each other as the tension grew greater and Steve’s animosity turned into a subtle passion. He thought about sleeping next to Tony and immediately felt the palpitations in his gut again.

Steve said nothing, walked downstairs, plopped on the couch, and barely slept a wink.

 

* * *

 

 _Blink blink._  Steve could barely open his eyes with the light streaming in through the window sheers. He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes and wrinkling his nose to clear the inflammation caused by his minimal hours of sleep. It had to be around 10 in the morning by the way the sun angled into the living room.

“JARVIS… what time is it?” Silence.

Steve coughed and spoke a little louder, “JARVIS, what time is it, please?” Still no response.

Furrowing his brows, the super soldier rolled off the couch and stood carefully, still orienting himself to the slight sway provided by the waves hitting the side of the cruise ship. He walked over to the digital panel that Tony had been messing with yesterday and looked to see if the panel said anything; it looked the same as it had yesterday when they first arrived. To be fair, Steve didn’t really know what it looked like after Tony had integrated JARVIS in the system. The digital display did contain the time and Steve grunted at how late in the morning it was at 10:45 am.

“JARVIS??” Steve walked over to the windows and pulled back the sheers. His breath caught in his throat as he looked at the vast expanse of ocean before him. The water was comprised of dark blues and greens, some white foam, and a sparkling reflection of the sun’s rays sprawling over the horizon. The ocean was beautiful, even though he had seen it many times. Even though he had slept in one for 70 years.

“JARVIS, you can continue ignoring Tony, but I’m the nice one, why ignore me?” Steve was growing concerned at the lack of communication from the AI, so he figured it was time to wake Tony. He trod up the stairs lightly and was surprised to find Tony already awake, propped up in bed shirtless and with a semi-transparent tablet in his hands. The arc reactor glowed brightly through the tablet screen. Tony’s eyebrows were knit furiously and his lips were pursued.

Tony looked up at Steve, worry present in his eyes. “JARVIS has been hacked and shut down. We just lost our fastest method of finding these bastards… and our biggest communication tool with S.H.E.I.L.D.”


	3. Cold water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry that this took me so long! I am in the midst of my Graduate Thesis, but wanted to add a quick chapter. I will be posting a new chapter soon to try and make it up to y'all. The next few chapters will be pretty dark to counteract the Stony fluffiness that has been going on, so be forewarned.

“What in the horsefeathers…?”

“ _Oh my god_ , did you really just say that?” Tony was concerned, but that didn’t really stop him from making fun of Cap’s old-timey colloquialisms. Steve ignored him yet again.

Both men were sitting on the bed now, Steve at the foot with his legs folded over one another, and Tony sitting at the head with his tablet on his blanketed lap. Tony had spent a few minutes explaining the situation and working in conjunction with Steve to determine what had happened to JARVIS.

 

Not even Tony had an answer other than ‘ _he was hacked’_ , which was unusual for the billionaire.

 

“I tried rebooting him multiple times with no success. My tablet was also screwed with; I can’t even run through the software to figure out what time JARVIS went down. I connected my spare system too and it’s like my whole tablet went haywire.” Genuine confusion was splayed across Tony’s face.

 

His hands went through his dark curly hair before settling in his lap. “Also… I can’t find my phone.”

 

“Oh yeah, I didn’t think of that.” Steve rolled off the bed and thundered downstairs like a child at Christmas, before scrounging through his neatly folded clothes by the chaise.

 

He patted his pants from the previous night, feeling nothing, dug in the pockets, and then started chucking clothes over his shoulder as a slight panic set in. 

 

 _Crap._  

 

He yelled up the stairs to Tony, “I can’t find mine either. Someone must have swiped them. I didn’t even pull mine out last night.”

After Tony’s silence, Steve walked back upstairs, “So, we have no phones, no functioning tablet, no JARVIS. Do we have any way to contact SHEILD if we need them?”

“We can try to access the on-board internet in the computer center. It will irritate the shit out of me, due to how slow it will be, but it’s probably our best shot to at least let them know what is going on-“

_“Attention passengers. We have now arrived at our first port and are docking now. As your floor is called, please proceed to the docking station to tour the location. Please remember to bring your passport, key card, and any essentials with you to prevent delays…”_

The recording blared over the speakers, causing Steve and Tony to grab their ears and groan. The speech continued for several minutes, letting passengers know where to go, what to do, what to bring for this port day, the weather, and the atmosphere of the location.

 

Finally, once it was done, Tony spoke apathetically, “Most people will leave the ship to go explore the Nassau port. We should too to blend in… and I think we should try to follow that couple we met at the casino last night.”

 

Clearly the genius was nursing a hangover for when he raised off the bed, he swayed a little, rubbed his temples, and then sat back down.

“Well then… I’ve never been to Nassau before, so let’s uhm… get ‘r done?” Steve then smiled at the genius’s wide eyes and annoyed head shaking before proceeding to the bathroom to get ready for their brief tour of the Bahamas.

* * *

 

He couldn’t really help himself from getting excited again. The ship had been nice and overwhelming, but he had never been to the Bahamas before. Tony had always freely offered the Avengers access to his private beach homes in Hawaii, the Bahamas, and Fiji, but Steve had never taken him up on any of them. The soldier often found himself too busy with avenging for frivolous vacations, however, because this was a mission in conjunction with a tour of a beautiful set of islands, Steve thought he might let himself enjoy the beauty of the port.

Tony had popped on a suit similar to what he had worn the day before, while Steve had opted for some breathable shorts, flip flops, and a tight-fitting shirt. His counterpart had been uncharacteristically quiet for most of the morning, even considering his omnipresent hangover. His communications with Steve had all been related to the mission and work, rarely anything else.

They had grabbed an uneventful breakfast from the buffet a few floors down and barely said one word to each other, much to Steve’s chagrin. Steve found that he quite enjoyed his conversations with Tony, even when they bickered like an actual married couple. He thought to himself that maybe Tony’s silence had been triggered from the events last night.

He wasn’t really sure what to think. Steve felt a large sense of confusion relating to Tony and his pursuits. Surely Tony Stark was just playing the role of husband or just trying to be a good teammate (but making it awkward) and that the genius’s silence was due to stress or deep thought. Steve continued to discredit any feelings of hope that kept rising in the back of his throat.

These emerging feelings exacerbated the anger that Steve had for himself. During the soldier’s fitful rest during the previous night, he kept thinking of sharing the bed with Tony. Those thoughts would move into Tony accidentally touching him, then intentionally touching him, followed by things that made Steve blush from his head to his toes. The sex closet  _also_ kept popping into his mind. It was irritating.

 

He tried to keep his emotions from surfacing and affecting his responses to the genius, but it was difficult. Cap was strong in a lot of ways but keeping his deeper emotions from painting his face was not his strong suit. Tony was extremely expressive on a normal day, but today his face was a blank slate. Tony’s lack of expression was also _very irritating_.

“So… Tony.”

Tony didn’t look at him, waiting for Steve to finish a statement that was already finished in Steve’s mind. A moment’s pause, “Soooo…. Seth?”

Steve realized he had dropped Tony’s name and smiled sheepishly before continuing. “You have been quiet today. You alright?”

“Yep.”

 _Shit._ That was never a good word. No matter who was saying it. Steve had learned from the internet that ‘yep’ and ‘k’ were death sentences. Irritation was universal.

 

Steve swallowed his pride- and fear- and confidently grabbed Tony’s arm before pulling him backwards, spinning him around, and facing him with a soft smile. “I know that it’s been a hard and awkward last couple of days… but I am having a fun time. Please talk to me.” The latter statement was said softly and with downcast blue eyes.

Their faces were inches apart and most of the distance was from the height difference between the two men. Steve saw Tony swallow and felt a little tug at his heart. Tony shrugged him off.

“I’m okay… I’m just worried is all.” Steve knew it was hard for Tony to admit any feelings that might affect his pride, so he squeezed at the shorter man’s bicep gingerly.

“Don’t be. We will figure it out and JARVIS will be alright. He is probably back at the mansion now alerting SHEILD to our lack of communication.” Tony smiled a little and nodded, seemingly sad to lose his AI.

After a brief glance among them, they turned, locked arms, and walked down the closed ramp to the ID scanner that allowed them to enter port. Halfway down the walkway, the metal covering opened to reveal a bright, shining sky. The sun blared down on Steve’s shoulders and he couldn’t help but close his eyes into half-moons and smile in happiness.

* * *

 

The scene before him was beautiful. The water was colored teal and lapped gracefully along bright yellow sands that surrounded the ship. A large sign reading “Prince George Wharf” was stanchioned in the sand with wooden beams. Multiple photo, food, and souvenir vendors sat outside of the ID gateway in little huts and carts. The island was lush with greenery of all sorts, trees, bushes, and flowers dotted the land vibrantly. It was truly beautiful.

Once Steve caught his breath, he realized that the gate attendant was speaking to him.

“Your ID, sir.” He held out an unamused hand while Steve rummaged in his pockets and pulled out the tiny piece of plastic. The man ran it through the scanner before a piercing beep rang out. “Your ID will not let you access this port. Go to customer service.”

Tony blinked and put on his people façade. “Come on buddy, can I offer you a tip to let him through? Here my ID will work just fine, and he is with me.” Tony took his ID between his pointer and middle finger, coolly twisting it and handing it to the attendant whose nametag read “Brahn”.

Brahn stared at him with the same lackluster face before swiping Tony’s card and having the same piercing sound fill the air. “You both need to go to customer service.”

“But-“

“NEXT.” Brahn shouted, ignoring the beginnings of Tony’s argument and persuasion techniques. People rushed around them, excited to get to their destination as they shoved into the men in the middle of the ramp.

Tony grabbed an upset and flabbergasted Steve, yanking him to the side of the ramp so that they were out of the way. “Fuck. Do you think this was intentional??” Tony questioned.

“I really wanted to go…” Steve said woefully and quietly, as if in a trance.

“Seriously.” Tony blinked. “Seth. You will have plenty of opportunities to go in the future. I will take you myself, but right now we need to figure this out.” He snapped his fingers in front of Steve’s face, with the soldier turning his attention to Tony promptly.

“Yeah yeah…” Steve sighed woefully. “I don’t know… let’s head to customer service and find out what’s going on. It could just be a coincidence. Both of our cards did it, so maybe there is just a problem with the ID’s attachment to our room or something. Or the financial account.”

Tony looked at him incredulously, frowning in denial and clearly offended, “There is  _NOT_  a problem with the financial account,  _Steven_.” He stalked after Steve when the larger man began walking up the ramp, stifling a giggle at Tony’s indignation.

* * *

 

The customer service desk did nothing for them. In fact, Tony was pretty sure that it increased his risk for stomach ulcers by 2%. They merely shrugged the two men off and, again, Tony saw the tattoos emblazoned on the desk keeper’s wrist. He told Steve about his concerns, including the tattoos and whether the staff was part of Kang’s crew or not. Though Steve had not witnessed the tattoos, Tony was happy to hear that Steve met his concerns.

“Well. Let’s go to the pools.”

“Dude, do you really think now is the appropriate time to sunbathe?” They had made it to the upper decks and were now gazing down at the port longingly. Tony turned his gaze at the super soldier’s profile in ticked astonishment.

“Every time is the perfect time for a pasty man like me to sunbathe… also the staff is pretty under-clothed and we can see which ones have tattoos.”

Tony, in his own mind, admitted that it was a reasonable use of their apparent free time now that following Patricia and Michael off the ship was out of the question.

“And here I thought you were a prude… but you want to go see naked people in the pool. Pfft.” Tony jabbed.

* * *

 

Navigating through the levels of the ship to ultimately reach the pool deck was relatively easy for the two tacticians. It was in the center of the second to the top deck, enclosed and surrounded by balconies above. The pool was silent, save for a few people sitting on reclining pool chairs and the few staff that remained tending to them. There was a palm tree fountain, two wading pools, one large pool, and two hot tubs cattycorner to the wading pools. A bar sat on the starboard side of the bow and a lone bartender managed it.

Tony and Steve gave the bartender a run for his money as soon as they found out that Tony’s financial account was, indeed, just fine.

Two hours into their plan, both men laid on their respective lounge chairs, giggling from behind sunglasses. Steve’s side table held 25 martini and hurricane glasses from various drinks that he had ordered, while Tony’s held about 3 whiskey glasses, one of which he was still nursing.

“Yeah, yeah… but that time with Clint and the ostrich at the zoo? He tried saving the ostrich from that fireball and the ostrich ended up saving him? Then when the coast was clear the ostrich tried to take care of him like an ostrich chick?” Steve howled, kicking his legs and slapping his knee at the memory and subsequent mental image of the ostrich grabbing Clint’s head to try and shove him into a hole in the ground.

Tony choked on the sip of whiskey in his mouth and laughed, a little of the elixir spilling from between his lips. He wiped it clean with his bare arm as both men calmed their breathing, sighing with each exhale. “I mean, hawk….ostrich…I don’t see the difference.”

That started a whole new fit of tipsy cackling. Eventually the space was filled with silence and the comrades simply breathed in contentment at the ocean air and sun’s warmth casting down on their partially nude bodies.

The bartender, Alphonse, came by to grab the empty glasses and offer another drink to Steve. Alphonse was tanned from his time by the pool and had dark, shoulder length hair and a shadowy beard. His red shorts were bound by a black belt that was attached to a fanny pack. He looked mildly irritated at the two men before him, but Tony attributed it to the number of dishes they were racking up.

Alphonse was clear of any tattoos. Clear of body hair too. Tony nodded in admiration as he scanned the man’s muscular body up and down over the tops of his sunglasses. When Alphonse turned and walked away with a quarter of the glasses and Steve’s new drink order, Tony looked at Steve and smirked. “Alphonse is… like caramel. Like a little French, caramel nougat. That I want in my mouth. Can he be our personal bartender?”

Steve acted as if one of his lungs rose in his throat and he was suffering to get it back down. “He’s a  _human_  not a piece of meat!” It was said like Steve was defending the waiter but really, he couldn’t help but agree, as well as be a bit jealous that he wasn’t the one absorbing all of Tony’s attention.

“Yeah but you don’t disagree…” When Steve shrugged his head to the side, he realized that Tony’s comment was a trap, especially when the genius’s smile turned into a broad, seemingly knowing grin. “Called it!”

“Called what? Shuddup Tony… I am  _not_ , but no shame if I was you know. No need to make a big scene.” It was all overly defensive and Tony settled back into his chair with a satisfied smirk on his face. He shifted slightly since there was a bit of excitement stirring in his swim trunks; both at the beauty of Alphonse and Steve’s obvious jealousy.

The men soon settled back into their reminiscing and enjoying themselves, several hours passing. The serum kept Steve from burning (or tanning) and Tony’s Italian heritage kept him mostly sunburn free, although his freckled cheek bones and tops of his shoulders were painted a light pink.

Over time, people began filtering onto the pool deck donned in bathing suits and carrying towels as the sun set lower in the sky. By this point in time, Steve was slap-happy and Tony was borderline intoxicated as glasses littered the area around them. They were locking pinkies between their pool chairs to ‘keep up the façade of their relationship’, or so Steve convinced himself.

“Let’s do one more dip and then go… the crowd makes me a bit nervous.” Tony admitted and stood, stretching as he did so. His black swim trunks lowered onto his hips, revealing a trail of groomed, dark hair leading to his clothed groin. His abdominal muscles rippled under his darkened skin as he lowered his arms to his sides. Tony reached a hand out to Cap, turning his palm up and open, and waited for the man to take it.

As expected the larger hand slipped into Tony’s and Steve found himself being gently pulled up (no easy task, but Tony managed). They maneuvered around the people walking and slipped their feet into the main pool, walking slowly down the concrete stairs and hissing as the cold water lapped at their warm flesh.

Steve seemed to be handling the gradual descent into the cold pool too well, because Tony leaped upwards and landed on the super soldier’s back, dunking him under the crisp water surface while he laughed. Steve, teeth chattering, splashed out of the water and proceeded to wrestle with tony in mock anger, submerging him after he was sure Tony had plugged his nose.

The patrons around them glared as they sloshed water out of the pool and onto the pool loungers next to it, but neither man cared; they were having fun. It was rare that any of the Avengers got to relax and enjoy themselves, much less the two leaders, and they weren’t about to sacrifice their temporary joy just to please some rich bastards.

They played, unaware and lackadaisical, as three figures watched them from the shadows cast on the far side of the pool deck. The figures appeared to be studying the men and as a malevolent smiled spread across the center figure’s face, it was apparent that malicious intent was directed towards the two superheroes.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment or kudos if you liked it. As always, I accept constructive criticism or grammar reviews in comments or PMs. I really appreciate all of you.


	4. Babe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your kind words and kudos! <3

“You look good.” Steve looked at Tony, eyes shining in the dim lighting that softly lit their suite. Tony wore his typical dark suit, but there was this glow about him that Steve couldn’t help but notice.

Tony smirked and tightened his tie on his neck. They had dinner in their suite tonight, catching up and cajoling as they hadn’t done for quite a while. Steve and Tony never really had the opportunity to hang out, just the two of them, so they reminisced about prior missions, as they had done in the pool, and talked about their pasts, finding things out about one another that they never knew.

Tony knew that Steve liked drawing, but he hadn’t quite grasped how much Steve  _loved_ drawing… nor how good he was at it. They had played a quick game of Tony spouting out items to draw and Steve quickly sketching them. The super soldier excelled at everything Tony threw at him, so as his final prompt, he asked Steve to draw him.

The whole scene had reminded Tony of Titanic when Jack sketched Rose, making him giggle a bit as Steve brushed the graphite pencil across the coarse paper. Steve shushed him, smiling a bit towards the end. He raised the drawing for Tony’s eyes and the genius could admit that he was shocked at the amount of detail that went into it, especially the detail that Steve put into Tony’s eyes. The drawing was an exact replica. Feeling shy, Tony jibed that maybe he should have worn a blue diamond around his neck; Steve didn’t catch the reference.

Finally, Tony responded to the compliment, finishing his tie, smoothing his hair back, and coiffing his beard. “You as well…” He turned and lost his words as Steve completed his tread up the master bedroom stairs. Steve wore the light gray suit that Tony had bought him at the boutique. It fitted him snugly everywhere it counted, and Tony couldn’t help but swallow and lightly smile in awe of the bigger man’s muscles, the tight lines around his waist, and what he could make of a perfectly rounded and chiseled bottom.

Ultimately Tony’s gaze unwillingly settled on Steve’s groin and the soldier grinned at him. The grin lacked its usual bashfulness and was instead confident as Steve strolled over to Tony, fingering some fuzz off his shoulder.

Tony sputtered out a cough and locked eyes with Steve for several seconds. Steve was mere inches from Tony’s face and he stared at the soldier’s soft, pink lips. He saw nothing but strength in those ice-blue eyes, hope, kindness,  _caring._

Tony felt that the story Steve’s eyes told was very different from his own. Embarrassed and ashamed of his muddled blue eyes, he looked away.

“We should get going buddy! The dance floor isn’t going to be near as hopping without Tony Stark taking down the floor.”

“I don’t even know what that means, Tony…” Steve smiled and rolled his eyes, suddenly feeling self-conscious. 

The two had planned to go to the dance studio on the top floor of the ship. It was apparently themed after a speakeasy but played oldies, modern music, and classic rock. Tony had warned Steve that he would probably be disappointed in the prohibition era bar, but Steve had claimed he had never had the chance to go to one before, and he wasn’t missing his opportunity now. Tony consented to going, but had been his normal grumpy, sarcastic self about it.

“Okay. Drinks first. Then dancing.”

“I would appreciate your sobriety… we can actually continue talking in coherent words and not whatever language you speak when you drink….”

“Tonese.”

“What?”

“Tonese. Is the language. It’s highly complicated. No wonder you don’t understand.” Tony elbowed Steve in the ribs and then slipped his hand and wrist through Steve’s arm, dragging him to their room’s bar. “Three shots. Let’s go.”

 

* * *

 

Three shots and a quick elevator ride later, both men were standing in the snazziest speakeasy that Steve had ever seen. There were bookshelves lining the wall, but they would pull back occasionally and reveal secret meeting rooms where groups of people laughed in a cacophonous manner. The lighting was a soft yellow glow and dark wood lined the floors. The waitstaff was donned in flapper outfits for the ladies and black and white suits for the gentleman. Globes of lights were strung above the wooden tables and barrels of whiskey and Steve felt, once again, entranced.

The soldier felt a hand slide into his and squeeze tight. He looked to his right and saw his husband next to him, smiling softly, seemingly admiring Steve’s naivety.

 _Fake Husband,_ Steve corrected himself.

The three shots in their room hadn’t done much for Steve, so he dragged Tony behind him on his way to the bartender. “Two old-fashions please, light on the ice and heavy on the cherries.”

“Woah Hubby… ordering for me now huh?” The three shots had affected Tony a little, but the man still had his wits about him.

“Old fashions are my drink of choice.  _Not_ tequila shots.” Steve glared a bit at the last one.

The bartender laid their tumblers down on the counter and slid them along salt and ice, each man catching the glass in their hands. They were impressed by the finesse of the bartender. It was rare that a man behind the bar would actually try to show off anymore; mostly they just handed you your drinks, took the tip, and moved onto the next customer without any flash or pizzazz.

Tony and Steve, glasses in hand, moved towards one of the last empty tables right to the left of the dancefloor. The opening was full of couples, dancing closely to an old piano in the corner that seemed to play when the occasional guest felt compelled.

The table was a high-top, base composed of a whiskey barrel and surface of glass. It was silent between the two men as they watched the husbands and wives dance and kiss one another.

A lady twirled by them in what appeared to be a poodle skirt (wrong era, but who were they to tell her that), laid a hand on Tony’s arm and whispered softly, “You two should really be out here… no one judges. You are both adorable.” She was subsequently whisked off by her husband as they rotated around the wooden floor.

Steve felt shy. Tony felt daring. The genius extended his hand, offering for Steve to take it.

They roamed out onto the center of the floor, lights twinkling above their heads as a Frank Sinatra song finished its final chorus.

The music changed and Tony felt a blush creeping across his cheeks. “This is the song.”

“Huh?” Steve seemed to be intentionally distracted, not looking into the genius’ eyes as Tony lowered his hand down Steve’s back and his other arm around the super soldier’s neck.

“The song. The other night. I was singing it… but I was a bit drunk and speaking Tonese.”

“I… the one that you said reminded you of me?” The lyrics played into Steve’s head and he felt his heart rise and eyes light up as he looked down into Tony’s soft blue ones.

 _So please believe me_ __  
My heart is in your hands  
And I’ll be missing you…

Steve carefully listened to each of the words playing in the melody and it slowly dawned on him the meaning of the song. He was sharp-witted generally, but rarely picked up acts of romance from other people.

 _…Giving me the courage_ __  
And the strength I need  
Please believe  
Babe, I love you…

“Oh…” Steve was dumbfounded, and it showed as his eyes stared over Tony’s head and into the crowd, wide.

Tony decided now was the perfect time to go on one of his non-stop tangents, anxiety deep in his gut at the admission. “It’s by Styx. It’s called Babe. It is a wonderful song. I really think that you would like it if you could hear over the damn crowd, but if you don’t that’s totally cool too. Styx is a great band. I saw them in ’86 and it was awesome. Great concert. I will update your phone with some of their songs and you can tell me what you think, I- “

“Tony…” Steve was looking down at him again, confusion and apprehension written on his features.

Their eyes locked as they swayed back and forth to the rhythm that Styx belted out. Tony’s hand was still on the small of Steve’s back and his other hand still gingerly wrapped around the bigger man’s neck. Steve had both of his hands wrapped around Tony’s ribs, tickling him slightly as they moved.

Neither man said a word as Tony parted his lips, raised on his toes, and moved closer towards Steve’s face.

The genius’s blue eyes were intoxicating, and Steve found himself lost in them for a moment. The moment was over as soon as he smelled the liquor on Tony’s breath.

 _Not like this…_ Steve turned his head.

 

Tony pulled back quickly, putting on the breaks and throwing himself into reverse. Tony’s hand shot down from Steve’s neck and he looked at the side of the soldier’s face, baffled.

“I-Uh…. I’m sorry. I-" Tony stammered and removed his hand from Steve’s back, pulling away as the song ended. Steve grabbed after him but wasn’t quick enough to snag his arm.

“Tony, wait-"

The genius was off like a rocket towards the bar, briskly walking along the barstools that lined it. Still walking, he grabbed a drink the bartender put down for another recipient, downed it, and then bolted out the side door towards the elevators.

Steve dodged the dancing cruisegoers and tried to chase after him, but three large men moved to stand in front of him. They were larger than Steve, and he pulled his head back, glaring at them.

“Excuse me.” He tried to arm his way through the buff blockade, but they stopped him.

“You look familiar, little man…” The man in the middle of the three bent down slightly to look the supersoldier in the eyes. Steve raised a brow.

“I doubt it. I rarely get out of the house. Please excuse me, I need to go after my frie- my husband.” He tried to dodge but again was blocked by the men. They began walking, pushing Steve back. One of the men’s shirt sleeves raised over their wrist and Steve saw the sword tattoo painted over his massive wrist veins. He moved back a little easier then, preferring not to injure anyone in the crowd were these buffoons to try to attack him.

The men stopped, the middle one cracking his knuckles and smiling. They stood there, staring eye to eye for several uncomfortable seconds.

They stared at Steve like they knew him, and he suddenly found himself swallowing down his anxiety, broadening his shoulders, and solidifying his stance.

The middle man threw a sudden front punch, lunging as he did so, his big meaty knuckles flying towards Steve’s face. The supersoldier’s eyes tracked the fist with such speed that Steve instantly side-stepped, the arm stretching out in front of his nose. The man’s hand struck nothing but air as Steve grabbed his wrist, snapping it downward and yanking the man forward to throw him into the bar behind them. Glasses shattered, shards and alcohol raining down on everyone.

People screamed as the cronies ran for Steve together, legs and arms blindly kicking into the soldier. Steve blocked their attacks with finesse and strength, none of their blows striking their targets.

Ultimately, all three men were lying on the ground after Steve was through with them, his cover blown as one lady screamed out his superhero alter ego during the altercation.

“It’s Captain America!” She had wailed before turning and running away with her husband.

Everyone but the bartender and the men on the floor had evacuated the room. Steve, a little breathless, walked around, yanking up the shirt sleeves of the hitmen to see that they all had sword tattoos.

“Show me your wrist.” He commanded the bartender.

The bartender dropped the glass in his hand with a clatter and quickly pulled up both shirt cuffs to reveal bare skin. He was shaking uncontrollably.

_I need to get to Tony._

 

* * *

 

Cap met no resistance as he charged up the stairs, completely avoiding the elevators. People moved over to let him by as he took the steps two at a time, ascending to the level that their room was on.

Once he made it, he slowed down, walking briskly until his hand met the door handle and his key card was pressed to the locking device. He slowed down and glanced over his shoulder to see if anyone was following him. The coast was clear, so Steve swiped his card quickly and pushed the door open, face falling at the sight before him.

 

A man stood in the doorway of the balcony exit, a large grin plastered on his face. He had a pig-like nose and scars that ran down the left side of his face and neck as if a large cat had gotten a hold of him. He wore a dark grey bodysuit with red lines running along the seams. His sneer turned his eyebrows downwards evilly.

Steve clenched his fists.

Pigface's right hand grasped a black-clad ankle that was attached to a body being dangled over the balcony railing. The body appeared unconscious as it remained still and not struggling. Steve recognized the black loafers immediately upon entering the room.

“Let him go…”

“Of course!” The man threw Tony’s leg upwards with such strength that Tony’s limp form came into view over the cement railing.

The man let go and Tony’s form shot downwards, gravity pulling him towards his death. At the last minute, pig-face grabbed a hold of Tony’s pants leg, laughing haughtily at Steve’s distress as he yelled out.

“Bring him back onto the balcony or I swear to God and the Holy Spirits…” Steve didn’t feel that his threat needed finishing.

“The way you two act, it’s hard to distinguish you from lovers. This little shit sat up here sniffling like a wounded babe until I got here. I knocked him a good one… so hard that maybe he will forget who you are Captain Rogers.” The villain’s voice was thick with an accent, although Steve couldn’t tell which. Captain came out as  _Cap-ee-tan._

“Do not further harm a hair on his head…. Bring him over and we can talk about who you are and what you want…” Steve raised his arms in surrender, worried more about Tony’s life than anything else. His heart was pounding, and he felt tears stinging his eyes at the thought that Tony’s last memories could be tears and hurt feelings caused by Steve’s own apprehension and fear.

“I want only to please my boss, you ignorant American. That is all we want. That is all we henchmen ever want.” He hissed, raising Tony up and dropping him, but again caught his pants leg with what Steve now noticed were metal, cybertronic fingers.

“Please… please stop! Who is your boss? I can get you out of whatever trouble you would be in with your boss. I will take care of it, just don’t hurt him.” There was desperation in his voice now.  

Steve knew that the water was warm, but that the drop into it head-first would shatter Tony’s spine and break his neck. He knew that if, by some miracle, Tony’s neck didn’t break, the waves would churn over his unconscious body, rolling him towards their depths. If he managed to survive all of that… the sharks and other predators would feed off the genius’s flesh until there were only bones remaining.

Steve pressed his eyes shut momentarily at the thought, hands shaking.

Pig-face scoffed and dropped Tony for the final time, the leg slipping through his fingers as he cackled.

It all appeared in slow motion to Steve. He saw Tony’s face one last time, saw the blue eyes open wide in shock, confusion, and fear as he hovered above deep oceans threatening to swallow him whole. Tony was conscious. Tony was terrified. Tony fell with an unexpected screech.

“NO!” Steve cried out and ran towards the balcony, rushing past his foe and laying his hands on the railing, looking down into the water’s depths. It was dark, and the waves were crashing into the side of the boat. Even with Steve’s level of vision, he couldn’t make out any bodies tumbling around in the ocean.

Steve stood there for what felt like forever, hands trembling and breaths coming quickly. His eyes caught sight of black fibers on the concrete railing of the balconies below them and he didn’t know if it was from where Tony had banged into the railing before falling to his death or if his friend had somehow managed to avoid the water entirely by falling into the other balcony. The latter defied physics, but Steve held onto the hope.

His hands clenched the railing tightly and instead of shaking in fear, began shaking in rage. He turned slowly to the pig-faced man, eyes a dangerous shade of blue, but Steve saw nothing other than red.

He charged the man without his usual calm demeanor and tact, giving his enemy an advantage. The pig-faced man was better at hand-to-hand combat than his predecessors that Steve had fought, thus Steve was struck solidly in the face by a steel-toed boot. He spun and saw stars.

He realized that not only was the man’s arm metal, but also the leg that just laid into Steve’s cheekbone. Steve threw punches, but his knuckles met metal and crunched painfully when they struck. Between his rage and grief, Steve was outmatched for one of the first times since he had been enhanced.

Punches flew between the two men, fists slamming into each other’s bodies. Steve was bleeding out of the corners of his mouth and from his nostrils but refused to give up beating on the man who had killed Tony. His friend. His… Tony.

The man cheated and brought out a gun with electrified tips, slamming the gun into Steve’s ribs and holding it there as the soldier spasmed with the currents that shot through his muscles and nerves.

It took about five minutes before the super soldier was knocked out on the floor at the pig-faced man’s feet.

“So sorry for the inconvenience Captain Rogers…” The man smiled and jostled Steve onto his shoulders, flicking the lights out as he strode out of the suite room with Captain America on his back.

* * *

  
  
The padding and ship materials prevented sounds from penetrating into the upper decks where cruise-goers could hear them. Thus, the bottom mechanical deck was a perfect spot for torture.

Hoarse cries filled the bottom deck of the cruise ship. They would pause and then ring out again. The voice would never beg, only belt out uncontrollably as if someone was peeling the flesh off their bones.

A storm raged outside of the ship, lightning and crashing waves further drowning out the shrieks for help.


	5. Sinking

Steve woke with a start and groaned as a sear of pain flashed along his temples and around to the back of his skull. He could feel liquid crusted on his forehead as he furrowed his brow, squinting so he could make out some of his environment through the white blaring into his eyes.

A bright interrogation light shined onto him, making it difficult to see anything past his immediate surroundings. He could only make out shapes moving in the distance, shifting dark shadows against an even darker background.

He coughed uncontrollably, ribs aching as he did so. He spat blood onto the floor and swallowed down the metallic taste.

“Wh-where- where’s Antione?” he finally got out, throat hoarse. The shadows stopped moving and one stepped into the light slowly, introducing one body part at a time as he stepped through the rays.

“Oh? Mr. Stark? I thought I already provided you with a grand enough vision of his death.” It was the man with the metal appendages that was speaking to him. The pig-faced man who threw Tony overboard.

Realizing that his captor knew who he and Tony were, he decided to ditch the charade. “You didn’t… I- he’s alive. I know he is.” Denial was steeped into his voice.

“You sound very sure, Mr. Rogers.” The man chortled.

At that moment a shrill scream echoed into the room.  It sounded several rooms away and Steve recognized it instantly. His blood turned to ice and he swallowed deeply.

“He’s alive. But he wishes he wasn’t.”

 

* * *

 

His left arm was broken. He could see it in his peripheral vision and could see how mangled it was. It was bending at odd shapes all along the forearm and various gashes were torn into it, revealing splintered bone, fraying muscle, and the white lines of various tendons and nerves.

Tears had started spilling from his eyes several hours ago. He couldn’t help it. Tony was never really a sentimental guy, but he cried occasionally; these tears were out of pure pain. Pain and fear for what was to come.

They had cut him. Broken his arm. Doused him in freezing cold water as they waterboarded him. The icy water had slightly helped with the pain from his lacerations and arm as it had numbed his nerves.

As soon as they had stopped the water torture, however, his body parts had gradually increased their blood flow and pain throbbed over his whole body.

They had left him for the time being. He was shivering uncontrollably, and the tears had dried on his cheeks and lips, white with salt. He tried to slow his breathing, but he couldn’t help the hyperventilation from blood loss.

Every now and then his mind would momentarily go to Steve. He was worried about him and couldn’t stop his heart from aching when he thought of the super soldier in the same position.

_Please let Steve be alright… let him be avoiding capture… or still under cover… or maybe they just want me?_

Tony wished he knew what the fuck his captors wanted. They hadn’t asked for anything. Hadn’t made any demands or told him anything. There were three of them. Two were obviously low-level minions and the other was some dude with half his body made out of metal. Tony had originally deduced that it was aluminum based on the feel of the metal when it struck his bare abdomen.

Speaking of which...he probably had four or five broken ribs in addition to the cuts and broken arm. Great.

He heard a scream and instantly knew whose it was.

_Steve._

Again. Again. A few minutes passed. Again.

Tony, fear paralyzing his mind, recognized that he himself was screaming as well. Screaming at them to let Steve go.

 _Shit._  They were taking turns torturing the two of them. Which Tony decided may actually be more torturous for him than physical torture. He couldn’t stand the mental images running through his mind: Steve getting beaten, Steve getting cut, Steve with a broken arm. His heart, beating rapidly, felt like it was going to fall out of his chest. So, he took a chance and cried out again. Cried out anything coming to his mind.

“I’ll give you the suit! I have what you want! You can have me, just let him go! I have a new technology that would prove very useful to you or Kang or whoever the fuck you bastards are!”

Various sentences left his mouth, all offering different things to his captors in exchange for Steve’s safety. Twenty minutes passed, and Steve’s screams grew louder and louder, pain seeping behind every cry. Tony’s throat grew even more hoarse as his begging and his pleading turned desperate.

“Anything… please just let him go! I’ll do anything!”

Although his hands were shackled and strung up from the metal ceiling, his head was free and with each word, he knocked the crown of his head back against the wall behind him in despair.

“Anything… please… anything…”

The screams finally stopped. He imagined Steve unconscious or Steve huffing as he processed his pain. His despair turned to rage as if he was cycling through the 5 stages of grief within a span of fifteen minutes.

“You mother fuckers! Do not touch a hair on his head or I will  _end_  you all! That isn’t a threat, it is a promise! When I get out of here, which I will, I will fucking  _destroy_  you with the same shit you have done to me and anything that you have done to him! I have a lot of shit at my disposal, do-not-doubt-my-words!”

Tony knew he probably sounded like an angry soccer mom, but he couldn’t help his yelling. It was still silent, and the silence was driving Tony even madder. He quieted, still banging his head back in an attempt to drown his anxiety.

In his lull, Tony noticed the ship. The room seemed to be tilting as he was pulled one way then the other by his restraints. This rocking became more vicious as time went on, light pulls becoming fierce yanks on his shoulders and wrists, feet almost touching the wall next to him at one point, indicating that the ship had almost fallen on its side.

 _Shit. Shit. SHIT._  Tony’s mind began calculating as he was tossed around like a ragdoll. When he checked before their cruise departure, there had been a light cloud coverage predicted for about halfway through their trip, and, after he hacked into the weather station’s satellites, he determined that the clouds should have dissipated as they approached them. Could he have pegged this wrong? He was a futurist, but he was no meteorologist…despite what the genius might occasionally argue.  

If the ship was rocking this much, then the storm must be bad. It was a cruise ship, so they should be prepared for storms like this, but who knows what tech Kang’s cronies had fiddled with on board. They could have messed with something that they had no idea its use.

Tony realized he needed to prepare for the worst.

 

* * *

 

He could hear Tony’s yelling as clear as he heard his own, which is why Steve had become solemn as the men continued to gouge him. In no way was he going to let Tony know he was getting cut up.

Despite his concern for the other man, it was a comfort to know that Tony was still alive and at least somewhat close by- at least maybe on the same deck as he was.

The men dug their knives into Steve’s pale flesh maliciously. He could feel every centimeter that they moved the blades through him and he groaned, teeth biting so far into his bottom lip that he could taste iron as blood spilled into his mouth.

He focused on Tony’s threats, trying to distract his mind. He couldn’t help but smile a little at Tony’s promises of death and destruction. Tony was always a damn drama king, even in his intimidation tactics.

Steve was in the middle of retreating inside his mind and thinking of how their evening could’ve gone with them dancing the night away. How it could have gone if Steve had just given into his feelings and let his face drop down to Tony and gently-

The boat lurched to one side and unintentionally, but not unpleased with himself, one of the minions jammed his knife deep into Steve’s chest. The super soldier sputtered in shock of both the knife and the ship’s sudden change in positioning.

The minions slid over to one side of the room, falling over each other as they did so. Pig-face had left the room shortly before Steve began his torture session, so he was absent from the dogpile on the floor.

Steve felt himself angled approximately 45 degrees, chains pulling on his arms as the knife still stuck in his chest. He gasped as he tried to breathe with the metal lodged into his pecs.

Confusion was only with Steve for about thirty seconds before he realized what was going on. He had seen the clouds covering the night sky seconds before Tony had been dropped to the lower balcony. Either this boat was unequipped for a storm, or someone had fudged up a checklist for boat preparations.

The minions, suddenly unconcerned about what they were supposed to be doing and more about what was going on with the boat, looked at Steve momentarily, nodded to each other, and then ran out of the room, slamming shut the door behind them. Fortunately, Steve didn’t hear the snap of it being locked.

As soon as they were out of the room, Steve put his escape plan into effect. As the next lurch was impending towards his right, Steve positioned himself on the left. He hissed with the pain in his chest. When the boat rocked right, he threw himself with it, the force of his throw and the boat’s changing velocity snapping the pipes that his chains were attached to overhead.

 _Thank you, God._ Steve promised mentally, and for only a brief second, to attend church more regularly when and if he made it back to New York. He raised one hand and placed it on the hilt of the knife and, with further praying, yanked it out while hoping it hadn’t hit anything major. He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut as pain spidered its way along his body.

Grabbing the chains still manacled to his wrists, he ignored the pain and bolted for the door. As he threw it open, Steve was thrown backward by another lurch, this time flipping over on himself.

There was an ear-splitting crack that emanated into his room and vibrated the metal floor viciously. The ceiling was now the floor and the floor was now the ceiling and Steve was pretty sure that something had just broken off of the ship. Most likely the other half of the ship.

_Not good not good not good…_

“Tony!” Steve shouted, knowing that his next step, besides getting out of the chamber, was to get the genius. The pain of shouting was almost too much for Steve and he coughed violently, blood spittle staining the metal surface nearest him.

He heard the faint call of his name and felt a new determination to get up and get back to the door. Hormonal energy surged through his body and he forced his way outside into the hallway.

The lights above him remained flickering, but the lights several meters away were gone, generating a dark tunnel for the rest of the hallway. The hallway was tilted downwards and various items slipped down the slope towards the darkness.

With his acute level of hearing, Steve could hear the trickle of water and fear spiked within him. It had been a while since he had been trapped in a giant body of water, but the thought still terrified him.

“Tony!?” He coughed again.

He heard Tony’s voice echo a few rooms away, clearer now that he was in the hallway. He rushed past each room, throwing open the doors, while finding each chamber empty. The lights were flickering even more ominously. He was no expert on boats nor electrical engineering, but he knew that it was only a matter of time before the entire hallway was pitch black and overcome by the ocean’s embrace; he had to find Tony before they went out.

Finally, when he threw open the last door before the lighting ended, he found Tony. The man was underneath a heavy table, struggling to push it off of himself with one arm. The other arm was slung against Tony’s chest. He was bloody and sweat was matted to him. He still donned the same black pants and buttery leather shoes that Steve had admired mere hours before.

The arm against Tony’s chest was damaged badly and Steve couldn’t help but wince, gasping slightly and subsequently remembering his own pain as blood slithered down his chest.

“I’m here, I’m here,” Steve said in a rushed, yet soothing voice. Tony was having a panic attack, gasping for air. Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes as he shoved the table and yanked against the chains binding him.

“We have to get this off you, buddy.” Steve slipped his hands under the metal framing of the table and lifted. It was a heavy son of a bitch and he determined he would have to put in more effort than normal to lift it. Taking a deep, searing breath, he lifted, ignoring whatever was splintering across his chest and into his lungs. Tony helped despite his anxiety, assisting by pushing the table towards Steve’s direction.

He tossed the piece of furniture to his left, boat lurching again and flinging him on top of Tony, chest to chest. The genius howled as Steve’s pecs slammed into his wounded arm. As soon as he could, Steve rolled off of him and grabbed the chains that were still looped around the piping on the ceiling.

Steve cared about Tony’s pain threshold, but at this point in time, the more imminent danger was the sinking rig they were sitting in. He yanked the chains roughly against the pipe, baring his teeth and grunting as he did so. The chain pulled against Tony’s arms and he cried out in pain, but the pipe eventually snapped.

Steve fell on the floor when the piping broke and gasped, trying to bring as much air into his lungs as possible. He mentally prepared himself for whatever was coming before sidling up to Tony and putting his arm around the smaller man.

Tony stood on his own and seemed to have been drawn out of his panic attack by the pain of Steve yanking his arm.

“There should be an escape hatch somewhere, about two levels above…er….below us? But that is only an estimation since I am not 100% sure where we are right now…”

“Better than the 0% that I have. Let’s go. We can’t go one way, so we are pretty much locked into the other.” Steve dragged Tony into the hallway and both men stared, frozen.

Water was seeping quickly along the slope. With the speed that the water was moving, it would be about two minutes before the torture chamber that Tony was in would be full of the ocean. 

The two stood, arm in arm, and looked towards each other, understanding and determination in both pairs of blue eyes. Steve nodded. Tony devised. Both men turned towards the dry end of the deck and hobbled together towards an uncertain future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know much about boats, but I sure do know I love y'all! Thank you for the comments and kudos. :)


	6. New Turf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welp Steve and Tony are in even more trouble now...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for being patient with me as I updated this! I know it took forever... new job and trying to finish the good ole thesis takes a lot of my time these days. 
> 
> I hope you guys like the chapter!!
> 
> EDIT: Updated some flow and grammar issues.

“It’s going to be really confusing to the rest of the gang as to how we got out of this mess…”

“Yeah, well, we aren’t out of it yet, now are we?” The latter was said with mild irritation as the brain behind the comment was trying to formulate a plan.

“The basis of optimism is sheer terror…”

“If that’s the case then I am hellaciously optimistic right now…” Tony’s hand rose dismissively after his final comment, shushing Steve to allow him to think. Steve pursued his lips in acceptance and tried to form thoughts that may contribute towards their escape.

They were standing on the ceiling, the angle between the water surface and the mid-line of the ship increasing second by second. Both of their shoes had been thrown off long ago. They were on the bottom level of the ship, which was now the level closest to the water’s surface seeing as they were upside down. The ceiling was raising like the high end of a see-saw and the men were having to angle themselves, half crawling, to push forward towards a set of upside down stairs that, when right side up, should’ve lead to the upper decks.

Tony inspected the stairs on three limbs, arm tucked close to his stomach. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath in quick hisses. They were at the end of the ship. The stairs led to the upper floors, but at this angle, there was no way to climb them. The stairs were their last option and there was no way to make physics work in their favor to get to them.

Steve teetered behind Tony, half from the instability of the ship and half from blood loss. There was a small ledge to their right created by a wall connecting to the ceiling. It could just barely fit two people but seeing as the ship’s angle was becoming more vertical, they would soon slip down their post on the ceiling like a slide or, if enough time passed, eventually just fall as if through an elevator shaft.

Tony reached out with one arm and pulled himself up onto the ledge, quickly followed by Steve. Tony’s mind was moving a thousand miles a minute when he finally spotted an exit. It was a small window that would have been on the wall adjacent to the stairs but was now at the top of the tunnel like a hatch beckoning them forth.

“We are gonna have to get wet Cap.”

“Alright. What’s the plan?” Steve looked down from the ledge, inspecting the pathway that they had already climbed through. He could see the water rising steadily despite the dim lighting. Lights snapped, glass shattering into the abyss as the liquid shorted the electrical work. It was going to be pitch black in a matter of seconds.

“You are gonna have to bust that window and swim. I will be a bit slower, but I will be close behind okay?” Steve recognized Tony’s bluff and wrapped his arm around the smaller man’s waist.

“We are staying together.”

Tony shot a disapproving look towards his friend, but inside was secretly grateful. Drowning was his number one way to  _not_  die besides fire. Hence the safe guards he had place in the Iron Man suit: multiple extinguishers and a miniaturized oxygen device.

The boat shifted, presumably hit by a large wave, and sent both men tumbling off from the safety of the ledge and into the cool water. Steve lost his grip on Tony with a yelp and grasped around in the dark water blindly to try to find the man. His fingers touched fabric and he gripped hard, yanking and pulling Tony towards him while he kicked towards the surface.

They broke through the water with gasps and flailed around, blinking fast and breathing hard. Tony's hair and beard were plastered to his skin and Steve's bald head glistened from the moisture. The water was tingling their bodies as mild electrical currents flowed through the liquid from the broken light fixtures. Tony hissed in discomfort.

The last light snapped and it went pitch black.

 Fortunately, with his enhanced vision, Steve could make out the outline of the window from the little moonlight that was escaping between the storm clouds. It shone to him like the lights on a buoy and hope surged through him as he drug Tony's wounded body closer to him.

He yelled over the roar of the water for Tony to swim. They began kicking, rising with the water, towards the window. 8 feet away. 7 feet. 3 feet. 

One foot away and Steve pulled his fist back and threw it forward, flinging water everywhere, and striking the panes of plexiglass. It barely cracked. He threw his fist back again and struck, cracking it a little further.

“STE-!” Tony gurgled as the water finally rose above their heads and entirely flooded theship with one last burp of air from the holes in the hull.

Steve blinked under water. It was dark but when he extended his hand he felt cold fingers grasp his; he clenched his fist tight. He pulled his dominant hand back once more, summoning all of his strength to combat the resistance offered by the water, and slammed his knuckles into the window, cracking it and sending shards floating into the surrounding ocean.

Steve pulled Tony upwards and shoved him through the hole formed by the broken window, following closely behind. Steve barred his arms against the window frame and pushed himself out, looking up to see Tony swimming weakly.

Steve’s eyes stung, and his lungs began throbbing as he realized through the adrenaline that he was on the lower levels of his oxygen stores. Looking up, he saw that they were only about 15 feet from the surface of the water. Below him was pitch black save for the disappearing end of the ship. Steve kicked towards Tony, reaching out for the other man's waist, when all of the sudden the other man began spasming and jerking around. Steve withdrew his hand, frightened for a moment, before realizing that Tony was drowning. He fought through Tony’s flailing limbs, wrapped his arms around him, and kicked hastily until his head broke through the ocean's surface.

What was above the water’s rocking surface didn’t bode much better than what had been inside the ship. The sky above clamored as lightning splashed across a dark background and thunder rumbled. The waves roared as they swelled to threatening heights before washing away everything in their path.

Steve held Tony on his abdomen and rolled onto his back in an attempt to float the two of them. He slapped the side of Tony’s face gently, but the man was unresponsive. Steve blinked and fought back tears.

 

* * *

 

 

Tony coughed and spit, groaning as he rolled over onto his back. For a moment his mind was silent, just the image of the backs of his eyelids floating around in his brain. He slowly regained his thoughts and realized he was on something hard and wet. Something kept tickling his feet and his skin felt itchy. He slowly wiggled his fingers, willing life back into them, and noted that one hand was asleep. His toes wiggled just fine, although it felt like one was restricted by a sock.

 _Where am I…Smells like the beach… mhmm mai tais....Pep? Happy? Ste-_  the train of thought stopped and the events from the last few days played out in his mind in rapid progression, flashing from memory to memory until finally the storm and the shipwreck burned so brightly that he was forced to sit bolt upright screaming.

He opened his eyes but grimaced, squeezing them shut as bright light shot against his retinas. He raised his hand and shielded his face, trying again to visualize the strange world around him. His irises contracted as he slowly focused.

He was on a collection of rocks that dug into his butt and thighs… both of which were covered in sand and algae and bird shit that was still dropping from overhead. Instinctively he tried to shield the top of his head with his other arm and cried out as he raised it.

He looked down at the throbbing mass and inwardly cursed, the image bringing tears to his eyes. His arm was a mangled and broken mess still, made worse by the water and its symbiotic bacteria that now infiltrated Tony’s open wounds. The wounds oozed and were surrounded by bright red swells of inflammation and blood. Tony set his arm gently in his lap and looked outward.

A vast ocean was before him. Light green and blue waves splashing happily over the shore as if there had never been a storm here. There we no ships in sight, no islands, no nothing. Just ocean and sky. Tony looked on in shock and misunderstanding of where he was.

Slowly his sandy and dry lips parted, croaking out a small “Steve…?”

He achingly turned his upper body, looking around behind him.

The rocks ended a few feet behind him and met softly worn sand and seashells. It would have been a beautiful landscape if not for Tony’s situation and the fact that the whole beach was littered with wood, random pieces of technical instruments, and a dozen or so dead bodies.

Tony retched and fell to his side, lone functioning arm collapsing under him. He threw up the minimal contents in his stomach and then howled from the pain shooting up his bicep from where his abdomen pressed against his fracture.

Again and a little louder, he cried out “STEVE?”

Tears started dripping from his eyes and he scrambled weakly to his feet, cutting up the soles against the sharp rocks beneath him as he did so. He shuffled slowly, watching his step now, and made it to the sand. He strode over to the body lying closest to him, good hand shielding his nose as if the body should smell bad. The body was clad in a black jumpsuit, but despite knowing that wasn’t Steve based on the clothing and body size, he slipped his socked foot underneath the corpse’s shoulder and pushed, shoving the body over.

Tony retched again and emptied pure bile onto the sandy beach.

The body was suffering from a severe case of water bloat that was worsened by the extreme temperature. Tony just noticed the sun beating down on him as sweat beaded and slipped along his forehead. He was no doctor, but he knew enough to estimate the time for absorption of water through the tissues of the skin. The body had been in the water at least 3 hours and who knows how long since it had washed up on shore.

Tony fell forward to his knees and began to sob into his good hand. He shook despite the harsh sun glaring onto his bare back. The various scrapes and bruises on his body burned, but the dark feeling inside his stomach of loneliness and doom burned worse. He couldn’t think, just let the tears fall and dapple the sand below him.

He sniffled occasionally and muttered small words asking for Steve to respond to him. His crying seemed to worsen the dehydration that was already taking its toll on him and he soon found himself crazy for water. When he finally stopped crying enough to stand, he noticed the tree line that laid before him. There were coconuts on the tops of the trees, but none on the ground, which he normally would find interesting but couldn’t give a rat’s ass about now.

For now, the thing that piqued his interest was a dark form between the trees that disappeared almost as soon as he saw it. Tony immediately began running for the trees.

“STEVE! STEVE WAIT IT’S ME!” He stumbled and fell face first into the sand, teeth clashing hard against his lips and tongue. He tasted blood. “Steve… please.” He outstretched his hand and found his mind slowly slipping away into darkness as he closed his eyes.

 

* * *

 

 

Tony woke up a few hours later and, emotions dampened, he sat up. Staring blankly at the now setting sun in the horizon. It was beautiful. He thought that this would be a good way to die, staring at this sunset. He willed himself to kill over right now but found himself continuing to breathe. He looked down at his throbbing body that was itching from the sand caked onto it and wondered what he should do. He was a genius, but the shock and dehydration had worn his mind down to nothing. He was at a loss.

Something began stirring in the bushes to his left, and Tony found his head stiffly turning to see what it was, but not really caring.

 _Maybe it’s a witch and she will skin, cook, and eat me… another fine way to go…_  he laughed deliriously and blinked at the bushes until a small sound emanated out.

He crawled on three limbs over to the bush and pulled back the leaves, revealing a small black tuft of fur with bright yellow orbs in it. He snuck his hand in and wrapped his fingers around the fur, pulling it out gently.

“What is a kitten doing here?” He croaked and looked at it with softened eyes. It was small, around three months, and mewed softly in response to him before hissing and causing Tony to drop it in his lap.

The kitten sat there for a few minutes before kneading his torn pants leg and curling up into him.

Tony hadn’t realized the dropping temperature before but began shivering when he noticed that he could see his breath puffing out in front of his face.

He looked back at the sunset and patted the kitten on its head.

“If I wasn’t going to die, I would name you…but hopefully I will be gone by morning little buddy…”

Tony fell to his side again, this time settling on his good arm and curling into a fetal position, bringing the kitten close to his chest for warm. He willed tears to seep from the corners of his eyes, but his body was to devoid of water to do so, so he went into a feverish sleep instead.

 


	7. Coconuts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO SORRY that this took so long. I will be updating regularly from here on out. Warning: this chapter is pretty uneventful, but has some humorous parts to it. Next chapter will have some surprises in store for our boys and more whump, ie. Steve trying to fix Tony.

“Ugh…God…”

Steve rolled over and immediately began coughing up water and sand. Soon his coughing fit turned into gagging and heaving up the ocean water that had settled in his stomach. He wiped off his mouth and sat up.

He blinked. His mouth gaped a little, half from the burning acidity settling into his taste buds and half because of his surroundings.

It was night. There were sand and rocks and more sand and more rocks. Some driftwood. He couldn’t make out the shoreline in the dark, but he could hear the water lapping against the sand. His pants were torn in multiple places and his shirt was still gone. There was a light red mark on his chest where the knife had been embedded, however it was scarred over.  

He shook his head in confusion, trying to clear his muddled mind.

A soft echo of his name sounded out along the island and Steve snapped his head to attention, previous stupor successfully disrupted. He pursed his lips.

“ _Tony….”_

The super soldier carefully stood up and dusted his hands on what remained of his pants. The call sounded like it was far away, like Steve could only hear it due to his serum-improved hearing. How he ended up on one side of the island and Tony on the other, he had no idea; the wave patterns surrounding the archipelago weren’t visible in the night.

He needed to get to Tony, and from the sound of the cry that had emanated through the trees, he needed to do so fast.

Running was an option, if he could see better. He could walk but that would take forever. His speed was also confounded by whether or not he knew where Tony was. There had only been one call, and he had no idea if it came from the center of the forest or the outskirts.

 _“Rats…”_ Steve sighed as he began formulating a detailed plan for how to get to the genius.

* * *

 

The sun began to rise, casting once again deep oranges and yellows over the sandy shore. A few hermit crabs skittered across the mounds and fish began jumping from the waters, creating crystals in the sky as they settled back down into the ocean.

The island was bigger than Steve had guessed, so it took him a while to make it on foot. The lack of shoes made it more difficult, as he often stepped on seashells or rocks, cutting his feet open; the sand stuck to the blood and grated against his bare flesh.

He hissed with each step but was resigned to the fact that he had to make it to Tony.

Eventually the beach lit up bright enough that he was able to make out shadows of bodies littering the shore. They had started to give off a smell, so Steve began breathing through his mouth. The bodies were bloated and pale. There were men and women. Steve spotted a pair of thin white legs sticking out from beneath a poodle skirt and felt a pain in his heart- as soon as he found Tony and made sure he was safe, he would lay the bodies to rest.

Steve had to rest. His bloodied feet needed to be wrapped and he needed water. He sat on a rock by the seaside and tore off strips from his pants, turning them into a pair of shorts; he wrapped the cloth around his ankles and soles for protection.

As he stood up, he heard a hacking cough behind him. He turned sharply, fists at the ready in defense. There was nothing behind him. Only bodies littering the ground. But in the distance, he saw a small form, curled in on itself. The cough came from the little person pile.

Cautiously, Steve bent down and picked up a solid piece of driftwood, holding it in his hands as a weapon, and moved forward. He stepped over ship debris and bodies, walking closer.

“Hello?” Steve’s voice rang out, a little hoarse from dehydration.

The body just coughed again in response. It was shirtless, a man, and began to shift as it coughed. Something small and fluffy zoomed from the man’s arms and into the forest, Steve following it with his gaze before settling back on the now exposed face of the man.

“Tony...” Steve whispered and rushed to the genius’ side. “Tony!”

There was no response. Tony was pale everywhere but his arm; the limb was torn up and bright red. Steve felt sympathy throbbing in his own arm just from witnessing the wound.

“Oh god, Tony, please. Open your eyes- god you are freezing.” Steve’s hands moved carefully along Tony’s bruised and broken skin, ultimately settling on his shoulders. Steve shook the man gently, trying to encourage him to wake up.

“Ste-e-eve?”

“Tony! Hey-hey...” Steve’s bright blue eyes looked into Tony’s. He gave the genius a lopsided smile before setting a hand on his forehead. Tony’s skin was burning up with fever. “It’s going to be okay... I’m going to help you.”

“Kitten?”

“I-what?”

“Fiasco. Kitten. Fifi?”

“You are delirious...” the super soldier slid his arms underneath the smaller man’s knees and shoulders and lifted.

Tony screamed, throwing his head back with his eyes fluttering in pain. Steve began to walk, and Tony calmed down, eyes settling on the strong jaw of his rescuer.  The man looked down into Tony’s eyes causing the mechanic to smile and subsequently pass out.

* * *

 

Steve had set Tony down closer to the tree line, placing him upright against a fallen trunk. He had walked down to the beach and, disgusted with himself, took the clothes off of one of the dead men. The clothes were sandy but had dried out in the newly cast sun. He laid them gently over Tony’s unconscious form in an attempt to warm him up.

Steve stared at the smaller man for a moment while planning his next course of action. He needed paper and a pen to develop a plan, but all his stuff was lost in the shipwreck and probably at the bottom of the ocean. So, he decided upon the next best thing.

He grabbed a slender stick and began drawing in the sand, numbering his steps for his and Tony’s survival.

Unfortunately, he would have to leave Tony alone to perform any of them. Not knowing if they were the only survivors made Steve wary about leaving the mechanic out in the open, so he took palm fronds and stanchioned them in the sand, covering Tony’s form seamlessly. It was mostly inconspicuous, if you didn’t look too hard.

Next, he grabbed another shirt off of a body and tore it so that it was square-shaped. He tied the corners and made a sort of knapsack that he could carry things in. He also inspected the shoes of several of the bodies and was able to find two, un-matching pairs of leather loafers in his size. He slid them on, checked on Tony one more time, and set off towards the middle of the forest.

The trees were thick and their canopies were very lush, causing the inner part of the woods to be very dark compared with the shore. He could still see fine, but the atmosphere gave him a strong sense of foreboding and not knowing what dangers lie in the woods made him even more uneasy. He brandished a large stick with a sharp end, holding it out like a sword as he made his way along the forest floor.

He’d hear the snapping of branches and, semi-delirious from lack of water, would rush to the side, hiding behind trees, logs, or bushes. Occasionally he would hear the sound of bug wings or see a bird flutter above him, but for the most part it was quiet.

Steve preferred the busy sounds of the city; car horns, people shouting and cajoling, and the occasional ‘hot dog, get ya hot dogs!’ from the street vendors. But here he was, stuck on an island with a sick man who he may or may not have feelings for. That was to be determined… if Tony even lived.

Steve mentally kicked himself for the pessimistic and lackluster thought.

Tony would be fine. He would make sure of it.

But first he had to find water.

He walked before at least a mile before turning around. He was exhausted and started to feel his head swell from the humidity and heat. He was so thirsty that he licked a bead of sweat off of his bicep; the saltiness was bitter and did him no good.

As he had made his way through the woods, he left himself markings on how to get back to Tony. There were various broken limbs and gouges in the tree trunks that helped guide his way.

He felt a little hopeless, going back empty handed, but knew he could try to make something to catch evaporated water from, or wait until it rained again. At least he himself could wait, he thought… he wasn’t sure that Tony could make it much longer without water in his feverish state.

A large bird flew behind his head, darting upwards at the last second. Steve ducked and let out a loud grunt before casting his eyes upward to follow it. The bird looked like some sort of crane, but Steve wasn’t sure. He barely looked at it before his eyes were drawn to the brown, fibrous balls beside it.

_Coconut!_

Steve smiled and gave a mental whoop at his fortune. Now how to get to the coconuts was a different question. There were about four on the underside of the tree, begging Steve to come get them down and drink from them.

He licked his lips in want.

He slung his bag off of his shoulder and untied the ends, stretching it out to a cohesive piece of cloth again. He slid the cloth around the tree and grabbed both ends in his hands, twisting the fabric around his fists tightly before leaning back.

The super soldier jumped, pulling back at the same time and throwing his toes into the trunk of the tree before shimmying his way up. The shimmy went great, until the same bird started pecking at Steve’s head angrily. Apparently this was the bird’s tree and it wasn’t too keen on sharing.

Steve cursed inwardly before using the only defense he had accessible to him; he started blowing air at it, spittle flying from his mouth. The bird looked at him as if he had lost his mind, before settling on a nearby branch, seemingly taking pity on the large man.

Steve continue his way up, until he was able to grab one of the lower branches and bring himself to straddle it. The coconuts were right over his head, so he reached up and grabbed 4, dropping them to the ground 20 feet below him. The bounced around, but landed without breaking. Steve, on the other hand, made to get back into his shimmy position but his footing slipped, resulting in him sliding (and screaming) all 20 feet back down and landing with a thud and ‘oof’ on the forest floor.

He groaned and slipped a hand over his eyes as the cloth floated down and landed on his head. If he laid here, just listening to the chirping and whistles, he thought maybe he could just die of dehydration happily.

_Nope… could do this all day…_

_Doesn’t mean I want to though…_

Steve pushed himself up, grabbed the piece of cloth, and turned it back into his bag, angrily shoving the coconuts into the satchel.

* * *

 

His head swirled with images of home. Pepper. Rhodey. Steve. He knew they were just dreams within a feverish mind, but they sparked horror in him nevertheless. Images of all of them on a small boat, washing overboard, and then drowning flooded his mind. He was the only survivor and as he waded in a never-ending ocean, he called out to each of them. Trying to find them. Trying to save them. Failing.

Eventually, after waking himself up with his own breathing, Tony was able to pop one blurred eye open. All he saw was green. Green very close to his face. He shook as much as his weak body was able to and the green fell away, revealing a high sun overhead and crystal clear water before him.

He smacked his dry mouth in response to seeing the liquid and tried to push himself up before faltering and landing down against the log behind him with a crack. It was rotting, so he fell through the wood fibers quickly and found himself staring directly up through the canopies of the trees behind him.

He didn’t know how long he was staring for, but pretty soon a face was hovering above his, lips moving but Tony couldn’t make out the words. He could barely make out the face but discerned that it must be Steve from the worried blue eyes that were inspecting him.

Words were coming in and out of his head now, but they were still garbled and Tony couldn’t put them into a coherent sentence.

“Fire-cold-sick”

He felt himself floating before realizing that Steve was carrying him to another spot where the log wasn’t shattered behind him.

“Splinters,” the super soldier muttered in conjunction with various other words.

Tony hurt all over. Maybe he had splinters all over his body? Was that what Steve was getting at?

“Pull ‘em out, Steve.” Tony hacked out and thought he felt Steve chuckle a little before setting him down.

Next thing he knew, something rough was being held up to his lips.

“Drink.”

Tony parted his lips and a rush of fruity, cold liquid spilled into his mouth, dribbling down the sides. He swallowed and the more he swallowed, the thirstier and more ravenous he got until all of the liquid was gone. He smeared the remains over his tongue and sighed.

“Hurts…” the mechanic whimpered.  

“Fire.”

Tony closed his eyes and went back to his nightmares.


	8. I should have kissed you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kudos! Please keep em coming; they really help me continue writing this. For a while I wasn't sure I wanted to finish it... or if it was even worth finishing. But your encouragement helps. :) <3 Tonee

Tony blinked his eyes open slowly. They were gooey and crusted over, so it took a little while for the first ray of light to make it through to his retina. He smacked his mouth; his tongue felt like sandpaper.

Hoarsely he cried out, “Steve?”

There was no answer, so he opened his eyes a little further and looked around. First, he glanced down, seeing his torn arm in a makeshift sling made from torn cloth. He threw his head back and groaned. The cuts were bright red, and he could practically feel the infection pulsing through his veins. Especially through his forehead which was so hot that it burned his eyes.

Using his good hand, he smeared the back of it against his eyes and screamed bloody murder after. Sand coated the back of his hand and now was sprinkled into his corneas.

“GOD DAMN IT BLESS FUCK DAMN!!” Tony shook his head, blinking his eyes rapidly until the tears cleared the granules out of his ducts.

He heard footsteps approaching him and turned his red rimmed eyes up towards the sound.

“Hello?” he croaked. He had barely gotten the word out before a hand slipped over his throat and squeezed tightly. The fingers were cold and hard. _Like metal,_ Tony thought before the panic flushed into his body. He began to fight, good arm weakly wrapping around the metal hand and attempting to pry it off of his neck.

His vision cleared from the sand invasion and he looked up to see the ugly man who had captured him and Steve. His turned-up nose dripped blood and he had various new scars in addition to the old ones lining his face.

“I am going to kill you.... and then I am going to kill Captain Rogers... and then Kang is going to kill all of the Avengers... think about it Mister Stark... think about your precious Captain bleeding from his eyes as I crush his throat... his face is purple and swollen just like those bodies on the beach. I will _end_ him...and you will watch.” The man let go of his throat, throwing him to his side and into a hill of dirt. The pig-faced man took a wrinkled and soggy foot, placing it on Tony’s cheek before letting his weight fall to it. Tony could feel his skull cracking under the pressure and began to scream.

The man laughed, releasing his hold on the mechanic and, to Tony, seemingly disappeared.

Tony cried, tears staining the dirt beneath him and pushed himself up with his good arm. “Steve...” he swallowed between gasps.

One eye open, he spotted the super soldier making his way up the beach, strolling up among the driftwood and haze. Steve broke out into a full sprint once he heard Tony’s shouts for him.

“Hey... hey.... Tony” Steve ran, falling into the deep sand and landing on his knees by the mechanic. His arms slid under Tony’s body and raised him up, leaning him back against the tree. “It’s okay, it’s okay.” Beside him, Steve dug into the ground, eventually revealing several coarse round coconuts. He pulled one out and began pounding it against the sharp rock stanchioned a few feet away from Tony.

After a few tries, a splitting crack resounded and the coconut broke open, liquid sloshing out of it. Steve rushed back over to Tony’s side and held the coconut to his lips. “Here, drink.”

Tony sipped the water gingerly, still sobbing.

“Bad dream?”

“That man. The man with the metal arm, he’s alive Steve.”

Steve took a second to recognize what Tony was talking about and the blood drained from his face.

“He was here Steve.... he says he is going to kill us.”

The super soldier blinked slowly, methodically, as the gears behind his eyes chugged along. A firm determination set into the lines on his face and he reached out a gentle hand, stroking Tony’s good shoulder. “It’s going to be okay. I will keep us safe.”

“Steve... did you beat him before?”

“Well, no-”

“Then we have to play it safe. He could kill me easily, and he could kill you too. I can’t. I can’t lose you. We have to get to somewhere safe.” Tony started hyperventilating, still crying from his previous altercation with the metal clad man.

“Tony. Tony. TONY.” Steve said each whisper of Tony’s name as the man punctuated each of his short-lived sentences. He grabbed both sides of Tony’s face and aimed the man’s vision in line with his own. “We. Will. Be. Okay.”

Tony sniffled and then nodded, sort of intimidated by the firmness of the soldier in front of him. The mechanic went into an adrenaline-based daze afterwards but stayed awake. His arm throbbed, but he felt numb. He didn’t care what Steve was saying, this man could hurt them both and it was up to Tony to save them.

Tony watched Steve silently. The larger man was putting pieces of dry driftwood in a pile in front of them. Pretty soon he had an adequate pile.

Tony had taken some of the rocks and sticks beside him and fashioned some sort of sundial. It didn’t work very well since it was shrouded by the forest line and wasn’t directly in the sun, but it made Tony feel useful to do something. He estimated that it could be an hour or two off, so it was either 3 pm or 1 pm or 5 pm... or 2 pm or 4 pm, he had no fucking idea. He guessed around 3 pm, just by looking at the sun lowering into the sky.

The fever made him tired and he lowered his head back against the tree trunk. He at least could stay awake though; obviously the coconut water helped.

“Steve. You need to set my arm.”

Steve looked up from his wood pile where he had been staring for about 5 minutes, thoughtless. He swallowed and looked at the tangled mess that was the mechanic’s left arm.

“It may be beyond setting...”

“Well then cut it off.”

“I can’t-”

“Just _fix it...try.”_

Steve almost argued but closed his mouth instead and nodded. “Let me build the fire first and see if I can find any-” he coughed uncomfortably “-tools on the shore.”

Tony winced and began mentally preparing himself for the pain that was to come.

* * *

 

The sun was setting again and were it not for the large fire burning before him, Tony would’ve felt the cold settling into his bones. Instead he felt unease and anxiety worming its way through his skeleton.

Again, Tony had to admire the beauty of the scene in front of him. The sun set directly in front of him, giving him a better idea of the direction of the place. The orange and purple hues in the sky were vibrant and slightly hidden by white, puffy clouds. The scenery was beautiful, but the man in front of him was more so.

Steve was topless, muscles glistening with a sheen of sweat as he worked, digging sticks in the ground around them in a makeshift fence. Steve’s blonde hair was in an unusual state of disarray and it hung down over his blue eyes. He had stubble lining his sharp jawline, but Tony found the disheveled state sexy. If it weren’t for their current situation, Tony might even find himself hardening at the view. Despite having made the sundial, Tony felt useless as Steve set the barrier between them and their environment.

It seemed like it would work pretty well and should at least keep any critters out. Tony thought sadly about the kitten that he had named Fiasco. He wasn’t really sure if Fi Fi was real or if she was a figment of his fever... but he sort of missed the little purr monster. He touched his chest where the black puffball had slept the night before.

There was a small opening where the sticks lining their fencing ceased to stand. That was the door and Steve stood in the gap for a moment, admiring his hard work, eyes ultimately settling on Tony. He had been avoiding this the entire night, Tony knew. He walked over to the mechanic and set with a plop in the sand beside him.

“You ready?”

“Do you really think that is an appropriate question? Yes, Steve I am ready for you to cause me unimaginable pain as you re-set every bone in my arm. Great. Superbly excited.”

Steve smiled lightly at Tony’s sarcasm, the only positive thing from this whole experience. Steve looked exhausted. Like he just wanted to fall over and sleep for days on end, but Tony knew he wouldn’t.

“I found a first aid kid... it was full of water, so I am not sure how sterile it is. But we can try. There are butterfly sutures in it, some triple antibiotic ointment and some pain killers. Here, take them.” He handed Tony a small packet of Tylenol.

“Great. Tylenol should definitely cut through the pain.” Tony rolled his eyes.

“I also found these sticks that should function as a splint, and I made some straps out of clothing.”

There was silence between them for a moment before Tony opened his mouth to speak again, “Those bodies are going to start smelling and attracting disease...”

“I already buried them.”

Tony, surprised, said a silent thank you by setting a hand on Steve's shoulder.

“I felt dirty. I took their clothes off of them before I buried them... there were faces I recognized.” Steve’s eyes filled with tears as he spoke. “That lady... the one who told us to dance? She-she...” Unexpectedly, Steve broke down. It was like years of emotional and mental pain came out in one sitting. He cried and Tony kept his distance, unsure of what to do. Tony wasn’t good with emotions.

After a while Steve quieted and though still sniffling, apologized.

“It’s okay. You are doing what you have to- to make sure we survive.”

“Yeah...” Steve rubbed his nose with his arm and stood. “Let’s get this done Tony. The medicine should have had enough time to kick in as much as it’s going to.” He hoped Tony passed out and didn’t have to worry about it, but he felt like the mechanic wasn’t going to be that lucky.

* * *

 

Steve sat on Tony’s left shoulder, mechanic’s arm between his crouched legs. He looked over his shoulder at the man. Tony was very obviously already in pain but was handling it. He had a large stick in between his teeth and gnawed down on it.

Steve set to work. He first examined the wounds, noting signs of a beginning infection. Next, he moved his fingers around them gently, palpating to see where the bones were broken. Tony groaned beside him, voice running through several different pitches before settling on a guttural moan.

The soldier winced, feeling guilty for the pain that he was causing the man beneath him. Tony’s arm flexed in between his legs, attempting to pull away; Steve held it firmly.

“There are three breaks… one on the radius and two on the ulna. Fortunately it seems like they are clean breaks, Tony. This isn’t going to feel good though…”

“IT DOESN’T FEEL GOOD _NOW_ ,” Tony howled.

Steve was silent for a moment before turned his head back to the pitiful man. “Don’t be such a baby.”

“ _What?!? BABY?!_ Says the man who has full capabilities in both of his arm-“ There was a snap and crack before blinding pain exploded up Tony’s bicep, radiating through his ribcage and into his core. It took him a moment, but as soon as it hit, he turned his head in a silent scream. Soon enough, yellow bile flooded into his mouth. The pain was too much for his body to comprehend.

“Didn’t mean it… just needed to distract you.” Another snap and the ulna was aligned. The radius was going to be difficult, Steve thought. The shards of bone were overlapping, the muscles acting like a rubber band around the break; he would have to pull the arm to set it. Steve raised up and sat on the other end of Tony’s arm, hands clasping his swollen appendage.

He stiffened his back, aligning his head perfectly to see if he could tell if Tony was still conscious. He was and Steve felt even guiltier. Tony’s face was pale and the soldier could tell that he was rushing into a state of shock.

“Tony… look at me.”

Slowly, very slowly, the genius’ head shifted, turning to face his make-shift medic. His eyes were full of unshed tears and vomit-mixed drool streamed from the corners of his mouth. There were dark circles rimming the bottoms of his eyes.

Steve needed another distraction. It may not help Tony very much, but it made Steve feel less guilty. Maybe it lessened the pain. He didn’t know. What he did know was that he couldn’t have any resistance from Tony and that he would have to do this very quickly to ensure the proper bone setting.

“You looked good the other night, Tony.”

A small croak in response.

“I-uhm-was really enjoying my time with you.”

“ok-a-ay…” said weakly.

“I should have kissed you.”

At that, Tony’s eyes widened a little, sparkling. A smile twitched at his lips and he began looking boyish. At least he was before Steve suddenly wrenched back, dragging his arm with him. The mechanic’s arm stretched and, there it was again, the blinding pain that made him double over in stupor.

Afterwards there was nothing but darkness.


End file.
